Lost In The Winter
by BlackRoseRaven109
Summary: AU / fem Bucky. Steve Rogers watched his best friend fall to her presumed death. It was something he wouldn't forget. Bucky Barnes was recovered by the Soviets and made the Winter Soldier by HYDRA. All that mattered was the next mission, until Captain America was the mission. Rated T for language / violence – The future of this story is undecided as its original author has quit.
1. 1 - The New Fist of HYDRA

**I'm doing something new with this story I have never done before; a gender bend. The story will primarily follow fem Bucky from later events in The First Avenger and quite possibly well beyond. **If not into gender bends, don't read this story! As a side note, I deeply apologize if my Russian translation is horribly off. I was using an online program and copy / pasted what the English to Russian translation was. It is NOT my intention to offend or insult any nationality should I inadvertently botch their respective language and English translation. All people and nationalities are equal in my eyes.****

 ** **Also, please forgive me if my genre listing(s) for this story are off. I really had no idea what genre to label the story as.****

* * *

 **1 – The New Fist of HYDRA**

 _"Bucky, noo!"_ Steve Rogers watched his beloved childhood friend helplessly fall from his reach.

He tried to save her, clinging on for dear life on a blown-out section of a train's wall. The horrified look in her blue eyes the moment she started to fall pained him in unimaginable ways. Here he was, Captain America, liberator of hundreds of soldiers beneath HYDRA's captivity and he couldn't save his best friend barely a foot away.

Further and further she fell from him and into the expanse of the chasm below. He heard her cry out in fear, knowing there was nothing either of them could do but accept her inevitable fate. The jagged rock faces of the cliffs reached out to her as her voice became muffled over the wind of the train charging down the tracks. Steve clutched onto the side of the train in agonizing grief with eyes unable to look away from where his Bucky had just been moments before. She was gone. Just like that.

* * *

What she could see of Steve grew smaller the greater the distance between them grew. Any all thoughts she had of them as children growing up together to their last moments fighting side by side was abruptly ended when she painfully impacted a jutting rock. She heard the bones in her shoulder and arm shatter the moment upon collision. No doubt a rib or few had been broken as well. The contact slowed her fall down, but not enough to avoid the punishment of a few other rocks. Each one she struck in her path downwards only worsened her condition. The entire left side of her body felt as though it had been torn wide open, starting with her left arm.

After her fall through the gauntlet of merciless rocks came the freezing cold embrace of the river. Down the rapid currents, she was swept. Bucky tried her best to keep her head above water, but the river was much too strong for her weakened body to fight. She was pulled beneath its depths and pummeled with chunks of ice also caught in its currents. She was then tossed against the rock riddled river floor again and again before allowed to resurface for air. Bucky couldn't fight it anymore and let the river do with her as it pleased.

* * *

Tiny slits of light through otherwise dark vision brought rise to an uneasy consciousness. Slate blue eyes lazily fluttered open as Bucky became aware of her dire situation. She had no way of knowing how long she had been lying there, sprawled out in the icy water and mud of the Danube riverbank. Every inch and fiber of her body screamed out in pain so much that she wasn't sure what hurt the most. If she was in this incredible amount of pain laying in what would be the equivalent of an ice bath, she couldn't imagine how bad she would feel once out of the river. She tried to cry out for help, but her body wouldn't have it. Sharp pains stole her voice and her breath even more so with each inhalation of the cold air she gasped for. The bitter taste of her blood filled her mouth and spilled from the corners of her chapped lips. The warmth of it was quickly stolen away by the frigid winds whipping her face. Its crimson painted her cheeks, down her neck and into portions of her matted short brown hair. So, this was how she was to die, body mangled and drowning in her own blood? Steve. Did he fall too? She couldn't recall. Everything happened so fast.

The ungodly skull-splitting pain in her head and ringing in her ears made recalling what happened extremely difficult. No. Steve didn't fall. Just her. He risked his life to try and save her. He failed. She was alone. Her only company was the cold earth pressed against her back, the river lapping at her lower torso and the rocks of the canyon walls laughing down at her in mockery. How was she not dead through the numerous ways that should have killed her? The rocks, the fall, drowning in the river, hypothermia from the extreme cold, internal bleeding...It didn't make any sense.

She knew there was no way someone was coming to save her this time, even if Steve and his Howling Commandos did survive the mission aboard Arnim Zola's train. The terrain was too unforgiving with no way of knowing where, exactly, she was. With that, Bucky allowed herself to succumb to another wave of unconsciousness.

* * *

Voices. She was moving. Steve? Did he _actually_ find her? But…but how? Bucky forced her eyes open a second time. She was on a gurney and being carried away from where she just knew was to be her final resting place. No. That wasn't Steve. That wasn't his face. Those weren't his clothes. She was being carried by two men…they looked Russian. What was going on?

Bucky blinked in bewilderment and looked around. Trees. Grey sky. It was snowing. Pain. Nauseating pain that emanated primarily from her left arm and shattered shoulder. With a great deal of effort more than she would have liked, she turned her head to gaze down at the raw, bloodied stump of what remained of her left arm. It dragged in the snow almost level with the bottom of the gurney and left a blood trail in its wake. The fall. It must've happened in the fall. Her slate blue eyes pooled with tears of dismay and looked back at the man carrying the foot of her gurney.

Their gazes locked and he spoke. "Oна бодрствует." _(she is awake)_ Bucky couldn't understand what he was saying. Were they planning on torturing her just as HYDRA did? There had to be a reason why they pulled her from the river and kept her alive.

"Уравновешенный ее," (sedate her) came another man's voice. "Она не должна повредить себя больше, чем она уже - должен она пробовать бороться." _(She must not hurt herself any more than she already is should she try to struggle.)_

Whatever these men were planning to do to her couldn't be any worse than what she had already been through during her fall.

The men stopped walking and sat the gurney down onto the bed of snow. Bucky felt its familiar chill welcome her back through the layers between it and her. A shudder ran down her spine and a labored gasp filtered through her cracked lips. The man she could see at her feet spun a brown canvas pack from behind him to the front of him. It was opened and a capped syringe withdrawn. She tried to verbally protest but couldn't. Not even trying to run away was an option with the current state she was in. The prick of the needle in her neck barely registered through the other pains she felt. The heat of whatever she had been injected with felt like liquid fire as it coursed through her veins. Soon afterward, a comforting warmth numbed her body and pulled her back into a heavy sleep.

* * *

Light filled her vision again before it was blocked out by unidentifiable figures clad in grey lab coats and black rubber gloves. In their hands were various tools to be used in what she could only guess was for surgery or torture. She knew she should be panicking, but her mind was too bogged down with potent pain relievers to really care. At least she wasn't in any pain. She wasn't sure if this was a good thing or a bad thing. Was this to ease whatever injuries she had sustained? Or to numb whatever was about to happen to her? From the corner of her eye, she was given another injection that induced more sleep.

But it wasn't as effective as it should have been for she woke up in the middle of a medical operation. Bucky didn't know where she was or even how to describe it. A thin white sheet was draped just enough across her probably nude form to allow some kind of modesty. Then she became aware of a buzzing sound filling her ears. Standing to her left was a hazy figure wearing one of those grey lab coats. In his or her hand, Bucky couldn't tell because of the face shield they wore, was a _bone saw_? The person was using it on what remained of her left arm. Bucky heard the sickening sounds of the saw's blade cut through flesh and bone. She knew if it weren't for the painkillers and whatever else her captors injected her with she would be in agonizing pain.

The operating figure stopped what they were doing the moment they noticed their patient was awake. "Кто - то! Быстрый! Поспешите! Она пробуждается!" _(Someone! Quick! Hurry! She is waking up!)_

A flurry of grey coats surrounded her from all angles. She tried to lift her right arm, but it felt as though made of lead. Either her body wasn't cooperating with her, or she was being restrained. Whatever the reason, the terrifying event she just inadvertently witnessed went black.

* * *

"Смотреть. Oна пробуждается." _(Look. She is waking up)_

Voices sounded distant and garbled in Bucky's ears. Her dry mouth made swallowing difficult. It was as though her mouth were full of cotton with a significant bit of it blocking her throat. Rolling her tongue around between her cheeks and the roof of her mouth let her know her mouth was empty. Why did she feel this way?

"Сообщите доктору Золе." _(Inform Dr. Zola)_

Zola. She knew that name. Bucky reached up to rub the heavy sleep from her eyes when she noticed it. Shiny metal caught the light from an overhead surgery light. The more she stared at the metal segments, the more she realized they formed an arm and hand that moved and functioned just like her original arm. Was…was she hallucinating from the pain medications and being subjected to sedation for as long as she had? This couldn't be real.

Bucky flexed the cybernetic limb as Zola's words resurfaced in her mind. It was right after HYDRA recovered her from the snow following an ambush on her unit. Dr. Arnim Zola loomed over her, his pudgy face coming into her immediate view while wearing a smug grin.

He spoke to her as he injected something into her neck. "Sergeant Barnes, ze procedure has already started." He caressed her cold flustered cheek with an oddly warm hand. "You are to be ze new fist of HYDRA."

Bucky didn't know what he meant at the time. Seeing this offensive attachment on her body gave new meaning to Zola's words. HYDRA's torturing and experimenting on her the first time was just the start of their demented plan. It enraged her. She reached out to a man, a supervising doctor standing too close to the side of her medical bed, and wrapped the cold digits of her metal hand around his throat and squeezed. She didn't care if she was crushing his throat or killing him. She wanted nothing more than to do the same to anyone else wearing a grey lab coat. They did this to her. They made her into some kind of a cybernetic Frankenstein abomination.

Zola rushed into view with a syringe in his hand. Without hesitating, he drove it into her chest with a smile across his lips. "Put her on ice."

Bucky couldn't get her body to respond to her brain's commands. She was limp in her captor's hands as they carried her scarred and naked form to large, heavy metal crafted chamber big enough to contain a person. She was tossed against a body support and held there while she was strapped into place across the chest, hips, ankles, and wrists. A third medical technician inserted a specialized IV into her arm, never mind Bucky fighting her left wrist's restraints to get free. If her new arm was as strong as she hoped it was, getting free should be trivial. She could feel the strap loosen and jerked and tugged against it. Her efforts were too late. Bucky was sealed inside the chamber, and it filled with frigid air. She dreaded what it was the rogue agency had planned for her. The sergeant barely had a chance to react when her entire body was rendered immobile and her mind dormant by rapidly forming ice. This was her fate; to be left at the mercy of HYDRA and their scientists.

Zola smiled triumphantly at the icy face he saw through the cryo-freeze chamber's window. "Zat should cool her off for a little while."

A female medical technician approached the doctor from behind. "Ven do ve proceed vizh ze condizioning?"

Zola's smile widened as malicious thoughts flickered in his eyes. "Soon. She is strong, and it will take a lot to break her." He folded his hands before him, one hand clutched around a red book with a black star on its front cover. "For now, I must continue my work on ze machine zat will be crucial to ze program."

* * *

 **Please let me know what you all think. I was actually quite hesitant to post this story, since I'm sure there's already tons of fem Bucky fan fictions out there. I personally haven't ready any so if this story seems like a rehash or rip off of someone else's, I deeply apologize.**


	2. 2 - A Work in Progress

**So, all this I'm writing for the conditioning process...I have no idea if I'm doing it right. I've dug into wikis and research but there's nothing that states 'this is exactly how it was done step by step.' Just vague 'it happened', more or less.**

* * *

 **2 – A Work in Progress**

An odd warmth crept over her. Bucky's eyes lazily opened to see the familiar face of Dr. Zola stare back at her through a frosty viewing pane. She tried to move but couldn't. The more she forced her body to respond the louder a mechanized sound came from her left. She wiggled her fingers and managed to raise her hand. Its metal sheen brought her memory back, recalling what happened.

Somehow, she had survived a tremendous fall down a chasm and was found by Soviet soldiers. From there, she was operated and experimented on that left her with the metal prosthetic. Her twitching fingers formed a weak fist she used to slam against the viewing pane. Her body was too weak to continue fighting, and the inhuman limb fell to her side.

Zola was smiling. He looked over to someone at his right, she couldn't see who and spoke. Bucky couldn't make out what was being said and was almost sure she didn't want to know. It was probably best that way. At the same time, the nervous anticipation of what her captors had planned for her next was overpowering. Something hot streamed down her cheeks when she realized she was crying. She was afraid. If Zola was here, then that must mean Steve and his Howling Commandos didn't succeed in apprehending him on the train. Steve. What happened to him? Did something fatal happen to him for him to fail? She knew Steve. He never quit no matter how big the fight. Her tears intensified. But then a flicker of hope fluttered in her gut.

Since Zola wasn't in custody, that meant he was still on the run. The SSR would be on the hunt for him. They'd have to catch up with him eventually. If not him, then they would at least discover his lab. There she'd be, ready for rescue stuck in this bitter cold torture chamber. Then the thought occurred to her. How…how long had she already been in the chamber? Surely not long. Someone had to be looking for him to stop him from making more destructive weapons in the name of HYDRA. There was no way Steve was the only person capable of finding Zola. Howard Stark in all his genius ways paired with Agent Carter's resourcefulness and determination had to have come up with something to track Zola.

They were coming for him, and she'd be rescued. She just needed to stay strong. She managed to survive thus far, despite the unexplainable odds. This wasn't her first time being captured and used as Zola's guinea pig. The chamber Bucky was sealed in lifted up. Warm air enveloped her that started to thaw out the remaining patches of frost on her body and in her hair.

Zola's smile remained plastered across his round face. "Good morning, Sergeant Barnes."

Was it really morning? Or was he telling her that to throw her off? Bucky could only wheeze in response in what was supposed to be a profane tangent. While her mind was full of words to say, her mouth and voice refused to cooperate. Come to think about it, she couldn't feel her tongue or her lips. She could only feel tiny portions of her body where feeling had returned.

Zola stood aside for two scientists in lab coats to perform a health assessment on the woman. "Get her dressed and in ze machine before she regains too much of her mobility." He turned and strode away across the lab. He stopped beside an unusual looking chair surrounded by computers and screens.

A tall, muscular man stepped between the two assessing scientists and unstrapped the woman. Her limp form almost fell to the floor, but the man caught her. A woman with a hospital gown in her arms came into view. Bucky was dressed in it, which didn't provide much modesty. She was like a ragdoll to the man with the way he slung her over a broad shoulder and carried her to the chair. The air was knocked out of Bucky's lungs as she was plopped down.

Zola started one of the computers and flicked a switch on another. "Now, let's see how well zis machine will work."

The machine hummed and scientists buckled thick leather arm restraints around Bucky's wrists, forearms, and biceps. Zola continued to operate the chair's controls via the computers and watched circular arms above the headrest lower down to the woman's head. On the ends of the arms were metal plates shaped to cradle a person's head. They clamped snugly around Bucky's head and prevented her from moving.

A tall female scientist joined Zola. "How vill ve know if ze procedure verked?"

"It is a work in progress, _fräulein_. Regardless, it will take many procedures to completely wipe Sergeant Barnes' memory."

Wipe her memory? Did Bucky just hear the psychotic little man right?! Why? Why would he do that? To what purpose would her having no memory serve? Didn't he want potentially valuable information from her to better help HYDRA win the war? Like U.S. military base locations? SSR stuff? Howard Stark's whereabouts and plans to his contraptions? Why was he wiping her memory? Was it to keep her from remembering what cruelties were done to her? That it was the Russians, who recovered her from the river? That it was Zola responsible for having her operated on?

She tried to struggle against her bonds with no success. Zola spoke to her. "I suggest you not move too much during ze procedure. Ze less you move, ze easier it will be." Another switch was flipped, and the head plates buzzed.

Bucky heard the buzzing and felt tingling in her face and head. It was a sensation that intensified to excruciating levels. When she tried to scream out in pain, all that came out was a rasp. That rasp became fainter the longer she was made to endure the torture Zola was inflicting on her.

For several long minutes, Zola watched, and listened to the sergeant's cries. He went through the shutdown process, and the plates went dead. The woman convulsed in the chair, breathing labored and whimpers barely audible. The circular arms rotated back upwards, and the machine was completely shut down.

Zola walked around the chair and faced its occupant. Beads of either sweat or melting frost from her hair trickled down her face and neck. Her eyes were glossed over, and her lower lip trembled. "What is your name?" Bucky felt her head violently pound and heard her pulse echo in her ears. "Your name. What is your name?"

Bucky licked her dry lips and hoarsely replied. "My name is Sergeant Jamie Buchanan Barnes, serial number three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine eight. Birthday March tenth, nineteen seventeen."

Zola sighed, listening to the soldier drabble on with a standard military response to be given during a hostile interrogation. It was the same drabble he had heard for the month he had her in his possession for experimentation. "Try as you may to remember zat, Sergeant, it will be forgotten in time." He smiled again and walked away out of her immediate line of sight. "Remove her from ze machine and secure her to an examination table. I will give her some time to recuperate before I proceed with ze next procedure. Right now, she is too weak to continue. While the body is more zan capable of handling the machine's demands, her mind is not."

The buckles were unfastened, and the muscular man peeled her out of the machine's chair. Just as ordered, she was laid on a cold, metal examination table. Bucky heard the metal of her arm clank against the table top. More thick straps were secured around her arms, chest, waist, legs, and ankles. Her captors wanted to make damn certain she didn't get loose.

She just needed to stay strong. She would be found. There was no way Zola and his deranged scientists would get by with this.

* * *

Bucky slipped in and out of consciousness. She already had no idea what time of day or night or even what day of the week it was. She had no way of knowing how long she slept for, either, when she did. All she knew was teams of doctors and scientists worked in shifts on Zola's research at all times. After seeing one of the science teams twice, Bucky knew at least twenty-four hours had passed since being restrained to the examination table. Her stomach growled and sharply pained her with hunger. She couldn't recall the last time she had something to eat. Apparently, she wasn't the only one who noticed this.

A female blond-haired scientist standing nearby heard the subject's stomach growl and studied her. She sat her clipboard and pen down and strode away. When she returned a few minutes later, she had another scientist with her. They spoke in what Bucky could identify as Russian before they both walked away.

Bucky pushed her hunger from her mind. It wasn't the first time she had to function on an empty stomach. Her time on the front lines was such an occasion. If it wasn't for…um…for…what was her name again? Bucky could see her face but was having trouble recalling her name. She was a pretty thing. Had brown hair, doe-like eyes and red lips…wore a uniform. Steve was crazy about her. Damn, what was her name? It'd come back to her. Whatever. She helped persuade Colonel Philips to allow her to join the one-o-seventh while attending basic training. Doe Eyes noticed a fierce fighter spirit in her and supported that, using the excuse a person's gender isn't what limits their abilities, it's their drive and willpower. Bucky must've made a damn good impression for she was allowed to join the…the…uh…Steve's hand-picked team.

Wait. It was happening. She was forgetting things. Dr. Zola said the machine would wipe her memory, but to forget simple things like this after only one sitting? No. No, no, no she couldn't let this happen. Bucky felt her eyes pool with tears again. She blinked back her sobs. She wouldn't allow herself to lose composure like this. She needed to stay strong and decided she would start a memory exercise beginning with the most important information first.

Her name was Jamie Buchanan Barnes, born March tenth, nineteen seventeen. She was a sergeant with the United States Army, serial number three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine eight. Her home was Brooklyn, New York of the United States. Her best friend was Steven Grant Rogers. While the rest of the world knew him as Captain America, she still remembered him as that scrawny asthmatic kid who constantly got bullied and beat up. It's how they first met; he was getting bulled for his money, and she came to his defense. Now, here she was the one needing saving. Bucky was smiling to herself recalling her happy memories.

Zoya's shadow crept over her as he observed the sergeant. "Somezing funny?"

Bucky cocked a smirk. "You won't get away with this."

Zoya didn't answer, only slyly smiled. He walked away and where he had just been standing was filled with another person's form. It was the blond-haired scientist. In her hands was a bowl and spoon. While whatever was in the dish didn't smell appealing, it was at least something to eat. The scientist slowly fed the restrained soldier the soup like gruel until nothing was left.

What felt like an eternity slipped by for Bucky as science teams came and went.

* * *

"Put her in the machine," Zola ordered a team of scientists.

Bucky felt the needle of a syringe be stabbed into the inside bend of her right arm. It didn't take long for its contents to leave her in a state of semi-consciousness. This was deliberate to keep her from fighting her captors. She was sat down in the chair and buckled into it. Just as she recalled her first experience being, the second was no different. If anything, it felt as though she was left in the machine a bit longer than before.

The head plates were powered down and their arms put back in the upright position. Bucky gasped for air and tried to focus through the dizziness and pain tearing at her head. Zola questioned, "What is your name?"

Bucky swallowed the knot in her throat and continued to gasp for air through her words. "My name…is…Sergeant Jamie…Buchanan…Barnes. Serial number…" She paused, mind a whirl.

Zola arched a brow behind his thin frame glasses. Had she perhaps forgotten? "Yes?"

"Serial number three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine eight. Birthdate March tenth, nineteen seventeen."

The little doctor's hopeful smile faltered a bit. "Return her to ze table."

Bucky couldn't put a fight and let the muscular man haul her off. Back on the table she was placed where she ran through her memory exercise. Her name was Jamie Buchanan Barnes, born March tenth, nineteen seventeen. She was a sergeant with the United States Army, serial number three two five five seven zero three eight five six eight nine eight. She was assigned to the one-o-seventh infantry regiment before joining Steve for his hand-picked team. Her home was…it was….it was New York in the United States. Her best friend was Steven Grant Rogers, also known as Captain America.

* * *

Zola relished in the screams that came from Sergeant Barnes. While her determination to remember her past could prove threatening to her conditioning, it also showed promise for what she could become. Her holding on to memories meant she would remember mission assignments longer. Nothing like getting a soldier out into the field to perform a specific task and they completely forget what they were ordered. Barnes was strong, which was why she was one of the ones selected for enhancement.

Zola started the shutdown procedure for the Memory Suppression Machine. The soldier coughed for air. "What is your name?"

"My name…is…Sergeant…Jamie…Buchanan…Barnes. Serial number… three two five…" her face wrinkled in recollection. "Seven zero…three….five six eight…nine…" Bucky blinked, and tears laced her lashes. "Nine…" Oh no. She forgot. No, no she didn't forget. She was exhausted and tired from lack of sleep and proper rest. That's all. They would find her, soon. But…who were they?

Zola grinned from ear to ear and slowly approached the visually distressed sergeant. "What is your date of birtz?"

Bucky gulped and did her best to stay focused. "March…nineteen seventeen."

Zola felt a strong sense of satisfaction and gazed at the tall female scientist that had been skeptical of his machine working. "Take her away."

Her name was Jamie Buchanan Barnes, born in March in the year nineteen seventeen. She was a sergeant with the United States Army, serial number three two five…something…seven zero three…uh…five six eight nine... She was assigned to the one-o-….one-o-something. One-o-five? No, that didn't sound right. One-o-ninth? No, that couldn't be it either. Her home was New York in the United States. Her best friend was Steven Rogers, also known as Captain America.

* * *

Hoarse cries of agony was all Bucky had to offer her torturers. After an unknown amount of days, probably weeks, her throat was in shreds from all the screaming she had been doing. The machine was stopped, but Bucky was still feeling its effects. Her body spasmed where she sat, hot tears painting her face.

Zola's voice boomed over the sound of her heartbeat racing in her ears. "What is your name?"

"My name…is Sergeant…Bucky…Barnes. Serial number…Seven zero…six…eight…nine… Date of birth is…March…seventeen…"

Zola wrote something down on a notepad in the palm of his hand and nodded to himself. "Back to ze table with her."

Her name was Bucky Barnes. She needed to remember that. It was important she _never_ forget it. Her home was the United States, and her best friend was Steve. How proud she was of him for joining the military. He looked good in his…red, white and blue uniform? And his shield…what was up with his shield?

* * *

Three months passed and four sessions through the Memory Suppression Machine left Bucky with little to hold on to for her memories. Zola was confident one more procedure would render her completely void of all memories of her life. The woman was placed in the chair and the machine activated. The dark circles under her slate-grey eyes stood out in contrast to her pale and gaunt face curtained by stringy brunette locks.

The head plates locked in place and amped up. She screamed out. She always screamed out. Not like Zola could blame her what with what her mind was being put through. After eleven minutes, the machine was turned off. The woman slouched over in the chair as her head lobbed to the side.

Zola held his clipboard in his hands and intently studied the significantly weakened woman. "What is your name?" She panted and looked up at him with saddened eyes. The look on her face let him know she had nothing left to recall as she had in the past.

The tall female scientist huffed at the smug doctor. "It verked."

"Nine procedures. It took nine procedures before her memory was completely wiped." Zola jotted down some notes on his clipboard.

The woman next to him glanced over to see what he was writing and furrowed his brow. Amongst the notes of procedure results were ten words, the word 'nine' being the most recently added to the list. They seemed completely random, and this baffled the woman.

"Dr. Zola, vhat are zhose verds?" The little man merely smiled at the woman and walked away. She watched the American soldier be removed from the machine and replaced on the examination table.

"Phase two of her conditioning will begin in a few days," came Zola's distant voice. "Ze Soviets have much planned for her."


	3. 3 - Breaking Point

**I spent so much time trying to figure out how to write this chapter. I did a lot of research for brainwashing, even watching a movie to help give me some idea. I'm surprised the authorities didn't come bust into my house and arrest me for suspicious internet searches as well as my continuous Russian to English translations. Sorry if the chapter sucks : /**

* * *

 **3 – Breaking Point**

What was going on? She couldn't understand. Who were all these people and what were they doing to her? Men and women in lab coats kept passing by where she was forced to lay on a hard and uncomfortable surface. She couldn't move no matter how hard she tried, though her efforts weren't much since she already felt weak. Her head hurt, and her stomach growled. She was cold. Most of all, she was afraid. How did she even end up here? Where was she?

A short blond-haired man wearing glasses walked up to her accompanied by one other much taller than him. He wore a military uniform and stared down at her in disgust. "Что это?" _(What is this?)_ "I asked for a soldier, Dr. Zola! Not a veak little girl!"

"I assure you, she is a soldier, Colonel Ivashov," said the man she thought was named Zola. Soldier? She was a soldier? He handed the militant a red book. It was flipped open, and a black star made visible on the front cover. Zola continued. "Written inside are ze activation words. You asked I make a list of words I zought ze subject would respond to."

She was afraid and wiggled in her unrelenting restraints. The colonel's eyes flickered upwards from the book and gazed at her questionably. The book was snapped closed with one hand and passed over to a much younger man behind him wearing a camouflage uniform. "Do not lose zat book, Sergeant." A nod of obliging came from the young soldier.

Sergeant. Sergeant. That word was familiar. She had heard it before. Her head twitched and her brow wrinkled. She saw the little man scowl. "I can make no guarantee how long her memory will stay wiped. I advise your team perform a memory suppression session at least once a week when she is not in cryo."

The colonel questioned. "Vhen vas ze last memory vipe session?"

"Four days ago."

Panic flooded her. Their talk of memory wipes and activation words deeply troubled her. What were they going to do to her? What had they _already done to her_?

* * *

Colonel Ivashov gave the supposed soldier another look over. She was sickly pale and gaunt so much that it made her look horribly disproportionate to the titanium prosthetic. "How often are you feeding her?"

There were small traces of exasperation in Zola's eyes, but he remained professional. "I had her food intake limited to a once a day feeding to keep her body weak. Zat way, she wouldn't be so much of a struggle for your team."

Thin lips of the colonel's square jaw pursed. He folded his hands behind his back and rocked on his polished loafered heels. "Even vith your progress on ze subject zis far, ze conditioning vill still take some time to complete."

Zola accepted this and nodded with a smile. "I expected as much, Colonel. I will check on her progress when I can. Because of SHIELD keeping a close watch on me and my activities, I can only contact you on seldom occasion."

Ivanshov cocked a sly brow at the scientist. "If zat's so zen how do you explain your absences in zier primary vork?"

Zola mischievously grinned. "SHIELD knows I have many labs, Colonel. What zey don't know if how many and where zey all are."

"Have her prepped and ready for transport, Dr. My team and I vill take over from here." The colonel walked away with the sergeant promptly following behind him.

A team of five scientists unfastened the weakened woman from the examination table. Two men supported her as they carried her away. She was brought to a shower room and thoroughly washed before placed in a clean hospital gown. Ivanshov paid Zola and his scientists no mind in his reviewing the book's notes. He carefully examined every piece of writing and drawn out diagram. His intrigue momentarily looked away to see the subject strapped to a cryo-chamber's body support. The chamber was sealed and the woman put to sleep.

* * *

Cold. So cold. Everything in her vision was blurry and voices somewhere close to her indistinguishable. Above her was a bright light that helped her better see where people were. Some were in dark clothing and others in lab coats. Bucky couldn't move in the process of being peeled off the support. She could feel the cold concrete scrape against her bare feet while she was drug to where she didn't know.

Ahead of her was a mechanized chair. She had seen one like this in Zola's lab. She was slammed down in it and strapped into place with heavy metal restraints. Two were secured around her left arm; one around her upper arm and the second around her forearm. In front of the chair was a series a television screens.

"Запустите его." _(Start it up)_ Ivanshov wasn't phased by the painful screams of the woman. He had read the entire contents of the red book from cover to cover multiple times. He knew Zola usually kept his sessions between ten to eleven minutes. "Двенадцать минут." _(Twelve minutes.)_

He flipped to the front quarter part of the book and read through the activation words. Not like he needed to. He already memorized them. His science team had also looked through the book and decided to rearrange Zola's list of words in an order they felt would be better effective.

After exactly twelve minutes, the Memory Suppression Machine was powered down. The woman was a sweaty mess, sections of damp hair dangling in her face. "Подготовьте ее для насыщенности программы." _(Prepare her for program saturation.)_

An IV was inserted into her right wrist and firmly taped down. Her head was held against the headrest of the chair and buckled in place so she couldn't move it. Her eyes were then forced to remain open as hooks were set in place at her upper and lower lids. Bucky had no way of moving nor blinking. It became more difficult to endure the longer her eyes remained open.

Ivanshov nodded to a scientist behind the controls of the television screens. "Запустите программу.". _(Start the program)_

The screens lit up, and a series of troubling war-based images flashed randomly on them. A red symbol featured against a black background would always show on one of the screens at all times. Audio of words spoken in Russian and their English language translation played along with the videos. The volume was loud, and it hurt her ears. Why were they doing this? What did they want from her?

Bucky cried out and squirmed helplessly in the chair. Her futile efforts left her exhausted due to her malnourished state. For what seemed like an eternity she sat there, watching the scrolling images repeatedly. She felt sick and lightheaded. Why was this happening?

* * *

Bucky woke to find herself crumpled on the floor of a concrete cell. The cold of the cell assaulted her down to the marrow in her bones. She shivered and pushed herself upright with her metal arm. Even its surface was bitterly cold and pained the many points where it was attached to her body. Her back pressed against the far wall of her cell. The most her torturers could have given her was a bed and blanket to lay in. All she had been allowed was a thin medical gown that didn't even cover her knees.

The toes of her bare feet were red and slow to respond to her flexing them. The fingers of her right hand were much the same way. At least she could warm her hand up by holding it close to her body. The same couldn't be said for her feet. The clattering of a cell door opening and closing startled her. Steady footsteps and voices grew louder the closer they got to her position. Three scientists and two soldiers came into view.

One of the scientists, a tall man with black hair and a goatee, spoke. "Доброе утро, солдат." _(Good morning, Soldier.)_

Bucky spat. "Piss off you Communist bastard!" He could've been saying something nice to her, but she didn't care. No level of nicety in words was going to forgive what they were doing to her.

The soldiers snickered, and the scientist scoffed. "Подготовьте ее." _(Prep her.)_

Bucky scrambled to her feet and was prepared to give her best fight. A fist to the gut sent her back to her knees, coughing and gasping for air. Once again she found herself trapped in the chair and her eyelids peeled open. Another IV was inserted into the bend of her right elbow, and a slow drip started.

"Начните программу." _(Begin program.)_

The television screens turned back on and started their cycling of videos as the audio flooded through the speakers. The goateed scientist set a timer for twelve hours and walked away. A heavy metal door was closed behind him, leaving Bucky alone in the room.

* * *

In twelve hours the program was shut off. Bucky was soaked in sweat and body slightly convulsing in the chair. What solitude she hoped to gain in the confines of her cell was denied. Audio of the Russians words blared so loud that she felt the sounds vibrate through her body. If sleep was even a remote possibility before, it wasn't now. Slid into her cell was a metal bowl of what could best be described as can dog food. It smelled terrible and tasted so bad she gagged trying to eat it. Hunger kicked in, and before she knew it, she was shoveling handfuls of it into her mouth and licking the bowl clean afterward.

This continued over the course of an indefinite amount of days when she wasn't going through a memory suppression session or having to watch hours of propaganda for an organization called HYDRA. Their ideals were becoming etched in her brain so much to the point that even in the silence between being transported to and from her cell and the chair that it resonated her thoughts.

* * *

Ivanshov read through the routine health examines and status reports of the subject. Echoing from somewhere in the compound was the woman's painful cries. Eight months had passed since he took on the responsibility of further conditioning her. From what he was reading, she was very near her breaking point. Zola was right, she was strong. He didn't expect her to last this long with everything she was being subjected to. He was ready to start her combat training, but before he could do that she needed to be brought back to optimal health standards.

He checked the time on his wrist watch and closed the file. Ivanshov left the tiny office and entered a corridor. The screams were louder, now, but they didn't bother him. An uniformed armed guard stood post outside a secured door where the screams originated from. The soldier stood aside, and the colonel accessed the number keypad. The code was typed in, and he allowed entry into the room.

With a wave of his hand, the television screens were turned off and the suppression machine shut off. Ivanshov snapped his fingers in a wordless demand for the red book. It was handed to him by a female scientist, and he opened it to the activation words. One by one they were read loudly and articulated. Each word spoken made the woman's trembling body go still. Ivanshov studied the subject after the last word and noticed something he had never seen before. There was no emotion in her glossy slate blue eyes.

"Доброе утро, солдат." _(Good morning, Soldier.)_

Bucky sat, body still and deadened eyes unblinking. "Я жду приказанийm." _(Ready to comply)_

Ivanshov grinned triumphantly. Just because the woman was compliant, now, didn't mean she would continue to be so. He kept Zola's words forward in his mind, to routinely send her through the machine for reprogramming. "Теперь, когда вы будете готовы, пришло время для подготовки к следующей части вашей принадлежности." _(Now that you are ready, it's time to prepare you for the next part of your conditioning.)_ The colonel tilted his head to the side. "Вы признаете, что?" _(Do you acknowledge?)_

Bucky released a slow exhalation. "Я признаю." _(I acknowledge)_

"Добро пожаловать домой, солдат." _(Welcome home, Soldier.)_ Ivanshov handed the red book back to the scientist. "Смотрите, что солдат правильно кормить с этого дня вперед до тех пор, пока она послушным." _(See to it the Soldier is properly fed from this day forward as long as she is obedient.)_ The present scientists nodded and removed the Soldier out of the chair.

She was cleaned up and sat at a table where a small plate of food waited. On it was seasoned chicken, potatoes, and mixed vegetables. As ordered, she ate till she couldn't eat no more. Afterward, she was returned to her cell.

A new daily routine was planned for Bucky. In the morning was an hour-long session of propaganda videos followed by the activation words. She was given a big breakfast before ordered to exercise under the close supervision of a doctor and armed guards. Then came another hour-long video session with a big lunch right after. Weapons training took up most of the afternoon and evening. Bucky was retrained on how to handle firearms, starting with a pistol.

Her shooting skills significantly improved over the course of three months with various firearms the more her health improved. Once she was deemed physically capable, her hand to hand combat training began. Anytime she was too slow to react or appeared weak, she was reprimanded with shock batons. She was told repeatedly by her handlers that weakness wasn't accepted. Weakness was failure and failure wasn't an option.

Ivanshov kept a close watch over Bucky's training and reconditioning. The more she would be subjected to the propaganda videos, memory suppressing and activation words the more effective as a weapon she would become. Her progress over the past two years since being recovered from the Danube river was just the beginning.


	4. 4 - The First Mission - Pt 1

**While this chapter isn't Bucky centric, it does open up to the next chapter that will focus on Bucky's first mission as the Winter Soldier.**

* * *

 **4 – The First Mission – Pt 1**

Bucky's ever-increasing reaction speed during hand to hand combat training was making it difficult for her instructor to keep up. This proved even more so during an armed sparring match with knives. The instructor was half a second too late in parrying the attack and got cut across the top of his hand. Even her shooting skills, both close range, and sniping were precise. By the end of her two-hour long firing range practices, there would be a pile of discarded paper targets all with the head, and center torso bullseyes shot through.

On top of her exceptional combat drills was her linguist training. Throughout the day Bucky was instructed in foreign languages. It didn't matter if doing her calisthenics, sparring with her hand to hand combat trainer or in her cell at night for rest time the language lessons were pushed continuously into her. To test her as well as keep her lessons fresh in her mind she would have to converse with that language's appropriate instructor or recite a series of exercises.

In the course of the three months since starting her language lessons, Bucky had learned four languages; French, German, Turkish and Italian. She was already fluent in Russian and English.

Standing on the other side of the Soldier's barred training cell was Ivanshov. Standing behind him was his assistant, the young Soviet sergeant. The colonel examined Bucky's lithe form dodge this way and that, avoiding her instructor's attacks. The blade of a knife flashed in her human hand with each swing she made. Her instructor, a tall and thick-muscled man with a black beard, stretching to his chest, found himself too slow to react once again. The Soldier's knife grazed his left cheek, causing him to stumble back and bring a hand to the injury.

The four armed guards standing around the inside of the training cell shouldered their rifles and took aim at the woman. The Soldier saw this, sheathed the knife in a thigh holster and stood in what she was trained as the neutral position. Her feet were shoulder width apart and her arms at her sides. Standing in this position displayed submission to her handlers and that she meant no harm. The instructor looked at his bloody fingertips before wiping them off on his pants.

Ivanshov sneered. "Вы получаете медленно, Дмитрий." _(You are getting slow, Dimitri)_

The instructor, Dimitri, motioned with a hand the guards stand down. They did so, though hesitantly. "Она превзошла мои навыки, полковник." _(She has exceeded my skill, Colonel.)_ Dimitri ignored a trickle of blood streaming down his cheek and neared the neutral Soldier. There was a look of agitation or admiration in his eyes, Ivanshov couldn't decide.

"Хорошо. Она готова. Ты лучший боец, которых я знаю, брат. Я надеюсь, ваши решения." _(Good. She is ready. You are the best fighter I know, brother. I trust your judgment.)_ The colonel beamed in pride at the motionless Soldier. "Хорошая работа, солдат." _(Good work, Soldier)_ He waved a hand in the air the sparring continue and left the room housing the cell. Behind him as though his own shadow was the sergeant. "Смотреть на него солдат правильно кормить до ее вечернего отдыха. Я также хочу сообщения о ее ежедневной оценки здоровья на моем столе завтра утром." _(See to it the Soldier is properly fed before her evening rest. I also want reports of her daily health assessment on my desk tomorrow morning.)_ The sergeant nodded. "Вы уволены." _(You are dismissed.)_

"Да, полковник." _(Yes, Colonel)_

The sergeant scurried down the hall back the way he came and to the training cell. He glanced at his wristwatch to see forty-five minutes remained in the evening's session. As ordered, he saw to it the Soldier was fed a balanced, hearty meal of beef cubes, steamed potatoes, and seasoned veggies. This did but didn't bother the sergeant. At least the Soldier was being fed right. Despite her being turned into a deadly weapon, she was still a human being. He pitied her. He knew her story after coming across her HYDRA file that passed across Ivanshov's desk. She didn't deserve what HYDRA and the colonel had done to her. The only thing she was guilty of was serving her country. She was not just the Winter Soldier, but an actual soldier like him.

The Soldier finished her dinner and sat in the neutral position with her hands relaxed on her knees. The sergeant regretfully ordered her in a stern voice that she return to her cell for evening rest. She obeyed like a well-trained dog and laid down on her cot without a word. The door was closed behind her and locked. The sergeant frowned sympathetically at the woman and walked away.

Just like the obedient dog, he himself had become, the sergeant went around to the doctors and scientists in charge of the different functions of the Soldier and collected their reports. They were neatly filed within a folder in the order the colonel liked to look at them in and brought to the colonel's office.

The sergeant knocked on the secured metal door. No response. He typed in the number code, and the door locks clicked open. It was dark inside which meant the colonel had retreated to his quarters for the night. The sergeant tiptoed into the room for why, he wasn't sure, and carefully laid the folder in the middle of the desk. Off to the side near the ledge was a painfully familiar red book with a black star. The sergeant stared at it for a long time in deep debate. With curiosity in his green eyes, he glanced back over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching him and picked up the book. The pages detailing the horrors of what it took to make the Soldier bored into him. Unable to look at any more, the book was returned to the desk, and the sergeant fled the room.

* * *

Six-thirty in the morning came, and Ivanshov whistled merrily to his office. In his hand was a steaming cup of freshly brewed coffee. He sat down at his desk and smiled in content at the report folder on his desk. "Что бы я без тебя, Саша?" _(What would I do without you, Sasha?)_ He flipped it open and started going through the Soldier's reports one a time.

By seven-twenty, Ivanshov was on his way to the conditioning chamber where he expected to find the Soldier for her morning session. Much to his pleasure, there she was. She was seated in the chair and watching the propaganda videos. Coming through on the speakers was a new foreign language instruction; Dutch. Her vitals were being monitored by her designated medical team, and so far everything was normal.

Joining him was his assistant. Ivanshov saw the sergeant and greeted him. "Вы есть, Саша." _(There you are Sasha.)_

The sergeant dipped his head in a nod. "Доброе утро, полковник." _(Good morning, Colonel)_

Sasha couldn't look away from the inhumane atrocities the Soldier was being put through. She was unrestrained in the chair and sitting perfectly still, eyes focused on the multiple television screens. He felt sick inside and did his best to not show this. Meanwhile, the colonel discussed advancing the Soldier's conditioning sessions. In his reviewing the past weeks' health reports, it seemed the Soldier was accustoming to the current levels of the sessions. He felt it was time to amp up those levels for more thorough saturation.

Sasha's jaw clenched, and his folded hands behind his back tighten into fists. He saw a pair of blue eyes in a blond-haired scientist's porcelain face look toward him. Her eyes pinged between the Soldier and him. No words needed to be said between them at this point as he understood what she was suggesting.

Ivanshov clapping him on the shoulder startled him. "Вы, отвечающий за надзор за солдат, сержант. Вы знаете, что делать." _(You're in charge of supervising the Soldier, Sergeant. You know what to do.)_

"Да, полковник." _(Yes, Colonel)_ The colonel left the chamber to probably meet with the other science teams about his 'thorough saturation' plan.

This gave Sasha an opportunity to meet with the blond woman. He stood over her shoulder authoritative like given his status with the colonel and watched her work. The whole time, he kept his back turned to the television screens and thought about anything else besides the Danish to English tutorial audio.

The remaining time of the Soldier's morning conditioning left Sasha feeling dead inside, himself. Sasha snapped his fingers for a guard to escort the Soldier to breakfast while he spoke with the scientist about how further stressing levels of conditioning could impact her health. The guard nodded, and the Soldier was ushered out of the large chamber.

Sasha looked worriedly to the scientist. She slipped him a folded piece of paper when she handed him a clipboard with the morning's health report on it. She whispered to him as she pointed to parts of the report as though discussing its data readings. "Вы встретитесь с моим контактом в десять сегодня вечером. Ее имя — агент Льюис. Принесите книги как доказательство того, что делается здесь." _(You will meet with my contact at ten tonight. Her name is Agent Lewis. Bring the book as proof of what is being done here.)_ She could see the sergeant was terrified. "Американцы будут защищать вас." _(The Americans will protect you.)_

Sasha gave a sharp nod and pushed the clipboard away with the back of his hand. "Делаете то, что вам необходимо. Просто не разочаровать полковник. Отказ не является приемлемым." _(Do what you must. Just don't disappoint the Colonel. Failure is not acceptable.)_ With that, he stormed off in the direction the guard and Soldier went.

It was well in the day before he could open the small piece of folded paper he had stashed in his pocket. Written on it were coordinates where he was to meet the agent. They were coordinates to the closest town near the facility. Sasha memorized the coordinates and shoved the piece of paper in his mouth. He chewed the distasteful flavored note and swallowed it.

Throughout the day, he kept his expression concrete and his voice harsh while reciting the coordinates over and over in his head. Someone needed to know about what was being done here to stop it before any more people could be broken and remade into Winter Soldiers. By the end of the day, he was exhausted and suffering from a hellacious headache that rang in his ears.

He followed through with his end of the day routine and begged and prayed Ivanshov wasn't in his office. Much to his extreme displeasure, there sat the colonel smoking a cigar behind his desk. He was having a drink and reading a message. He gave his assistant a quick glance and returned to reading.

Sasha saw a corner of the red book poking out from under a pile of papers and folders at the far corner of the colonel's desk. It was already nearing eight-o-clock, and he needed to get to the town by ten. Hopefully, the colonel would retreat to his quarters soon and no later than nine if he wanted to meet with the agent in time. There was still an hour trip between the facility and the town. Sasha thought of a way to sneak off with the book, but to do so in front of the colonel was incredibly risky.

Ivanshov saw his young assistant nervous and sweaty looking. "Вы посмотрите, как будто вы видели призрак, сын." _(You look as though you saw a ghost, son.)_ The colonel leaned forward in his chair and grinned.

Sasha blurted an answer before he could actually think about a plausible explanation. "У меня есть Дата сегодня вечером." _(I have a date tonight)_ The sergeant's eyes enlarged, and he gulped. He could almost taste the paper rising into the back of his throat.

Ivanshov boisterously laughed, his head thrown back and cigar pinched between two fingers. Sasha forced a laugh and wiped a sweaty palm on his camouflage pants. The colonel recomposed himself and took a swig of his drink. " Молодец! Она является ученый здесь, да?" _(Good for you! She is a scientist here, yes?)_ Sasha felt his head start to turn hot with nerves. He nodded and continued to do his best to smile. "Это что довольно маленькая кукла на солдата медицинской команды?" _(Is it that pretty little doll on the Soldier's medical team?)_

Sasha squirmed in is boots and timidly answered. "Вы поймали на меня, сэр." _(You caught on to me, sir.)_

"Я видел, как вы два посмотреть друг на друга. Прежде чем вы идете на дату, доставить эти файлы их соответствующим разделам." _(I have seen how you two look at each other. Before you go off on your date, deliver those files to their proper sections.)_ Ivanshov motioned to the papers and folders piled on top of the red book.

Sasha hastily handed the report in his hands to the colonel and fumbled with the files. He tried to get the book but dropped it. Ivanshov heard the book slap onto the floor and gave Sasha a cautious eye. Sasha laughed it off, blaming it on his being nervous for the date and handed it to the colonel. He watched through his peripheral vision as the book was stashed in the top left drawer of the desk. Sasha neatly arranged the files in his shaking hands and made a beeline for the door. He couldn't get away fast enough.

What was he supposed to do, now? He failed to get the book, and he needed that to give to the agent. Maybe the colonel would be out of his office by the time he finished delivering the various files. He was shy of running in his errand, something that garnered him several odd looks from those who knew he was never like this. Once the last file was delivered twenty minutes later, Sasha returned to the office. He stood shy of the secured door with a fist balled up and an inch from the metal surface. What if the colonel was still in his office? Already feeling as though enough time was wasted, Sasha knocked on the door. He expected to hear a bellowed answer but didn't.

The key code was typed in, and the sergeant peered inside. It was dark. Sasha fell over his feet in his scramble to the desk and yanked the top left drawer open. He felt around for the desired object and latched on to it. The book was stashed in the waistband of his uniform pants under his jacket so as not to be seen. He calmly left the office and retreated to the locker room where his snow gear was kept.

The coordinates were repeated in his head continuously as he rapidly got dressed in record time. In a matter of ten minutes, Sasha was leaving the warmth of the facility and heading out into the punishing cold of the night fallen Siberia tundra. Parked near the facility's entrance was a military truck. He got in, started it and calmly drove away with the headlights off so as not to be seen. He knew the route quite well, by now, and felt comfortable driving the first part of it without the lights on. Sasha worried that driving with the lights on would draw unwanted attention to himself. To be caught would mean being found with the controversial book in his possession.

It needed to be delivered to Agent Lewis, even if it meant at the cost of his life. He only hoped it wouldn't come to that and that the American agency SHIELD could, in fact, protect him.

* * *

 **I plan to post Pt 2 either tomorrow or the day after. Bitches, gripes, complaints and feedback appreciated in reviews!**


	5. 5 - The First Mission - Pt 2

**Soo... I got to rambling in my writing (which tends to happen quite often) and what WAS supposed to be a two part chapter became a 3 part. Oops. Pt 2 didn't go as I originally planned, but I'm happy with how it turned out. It led up to Pt 3 pretty well, in my opinion. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **5 – The First Mission – Pt 2**

Up ahead and glowing on the horizon was the town's lights. Sasha knew it was best he did not drive into the populated area in the military vehicle. It would draw too much unwanted attention given the town's small size. Other facility guards and scientists that frequented the town after their shift always traveled in a group in the trucks. For one person to be seen driving with no other occupants would bring suspicion. Going in by foot was the only way as it would allow him to slip in unnoticed. He could easily blend in with the other soldiers from the facility that frequented the town.

He could see the faint outline of the buildings and turned off the truck's headlights. He veered off the road and bumped along the uneven terrain. Its metal frame rattled, and its shocks squeaked in the quiet of the night. Sasha saw a sizeable snow-covered rock, just one amongst many as the base of a mountain range, and pulled around behind it. He shut off the engine and sat there, listening to the wind howl around him. Snow pelted the windows and started to blanket the windshield.

Sasha sat, wound up with nerves and hardly able to think let alone move. But he needed to move; he needed to meet Agent Lewis. The sergeant yanked the keys out of the vehicle ignition and adjusted the book still tucked in his belt. He briskly strode through the snow, listening to it crunch under his footed feet with each step. Sasha stopped abruptly. His tracks! What if someone tried to follow him? They would see his tracks! He spun around and gazed back in the direction he had come from. Relief filled him when he saw boot prints be literally erased by the tundra's winds and snow.

Sasha pressed on, more determined in stride as the town became larger. He neared the lower maintained outskirts and slowed down. His observing bounced between any lingering shadows that caught the corner of his eye. Being at night, there were plenty of shadows, none of which belonging to a person.

Loud music and merry laughter echoed on the winds up ahead on Sasha's left. Sasha knew this place, the only brothel within driving distance, as the Rabbit Hole. Whether or not that was the name of it, he didn't know. No one really knew. The brothel's sign had since fallen down, and no one cared to replace it. Then came the unofficial name of the Rabbit Hole, called so because of the soldiers' joking about the girls being snow bunnies.

Two drunk soldiers stumbled out of the buildings, mugs in hand and trying to support the other. They either didn't notice Sasha or didn't care. He was hard to not miss, given the amount of power placed over him as the colonel's assistant. Everyone knew he was Ivanshov's eyes and ears. People, both soldier and scientist, tended to straighten up for professionalism's sake when he was around. In the two years past, this never bothered him, until as of late. Sasha realized through the tortures of the Winter Soldier just how much of a tool he had become. Instead of being forced to watch propaganda videos until brainwashed, he allowed the power of his position for his rank to get to him. No more.

Sasha kept his head down and eyes on the ground when he walked past the Rabbit Hole. He didn't want to be noticed by the girls he was a regular with. He was seen anyway.

A sharp whistle from a girl in an open second-floor window got his attention. He looked upward to see a busty dirty blond-haired girl leaning over the window seal. "Hey, soldier. You look cold. I can warm you up." Her voice was a seductive purr and her eyes thick with dark makeup.

Sasha blushed and quickened his stride to an almost run. He rounded a street corner and was about to cross the street when a firm grip wrapped around the collar of his coat and hauled him backward. He landed against an alleyway's brick wall with an oomph.

A redheaded woman in a Soviet soldier's uniform pressed a hand against his mouth to silence any verbal protest and spoke. "Расслабьтесь. Я не собираюсь тебе больно. Я агент Льюис." _(Relax. I am not going to hurt you. I am Agent Lewis.)_ Sasha relaxed and heaved a breath in relief. "Есть ли у вас книга?" _(Do you have the book?)_

Sasha nodded and unbuttoned his thick coat and retrieved the item. "Да. Именно здесь." _(Yes. It is here.)_ He handed it to the agent as quickly as he could. The sooner he could get it to her and out of his possession the better.

Lewis thumbed through the pages, her expression contorting in disbelief. "Unbelievable," she breathlessly stated. "This goes beyond what I imagined!"

Sasha buttoned his coat back up. "Vhat zey do to ze subject is ze stuff of nightmares, ma'am."

"So it seems." Lewis closed the book and secured it in a shoulder bag worn at her right side. "Come. I need to get you and that book out of here. Follow my lead." She grabbed the confused sergeant and as soon as they were back in the empty streets, coiled an armed around his. "Smile. Look happy."

Sasha did his best and allowed the agent to escort him back outside of town to her own vehicle. If he didn't know any better, he'd think she stole it from whatever soldier she stole the uniform from. He got in the front seat and felt his stomach lurch when the agent sped off.

* * *

Another morning to another day. Ivanshov nestled himself behind his desk and opened the prior day's reports on the Soldier. He sipped his coffee and opened the top left drawer for a pencil and notepad. He liked to take brief notes to go back and reference instead of having to look back over all the other information. Ivanshov found the notepad and pen but noticed something missing; the Winter Soldier book. It was gone. It couldn't be. Misplaced, maybe, but not gone.

The colonel thoroughly checked through his desk drawers before checking again. One of the science teams must've taken it. Forgetting his coffee on his desk, Ivanshov stormed through the halls to the different labs and science teams. He ignored the Soldier receiving her morning conditioning and went straight to the goateed team leader.

"Где находится книга?" _(Where is the book?)_

The scientist was genuinely baffled. "У меня не было и никто не в моей команде либо." _(I don't have it and no one else in my team does either.)_ The colonel saw the doll-faced blond woman writing down the Soldier's vitals on her clipboard. Sasha. Ivanshov was so distracted in trying to find the book that he didn't realize his assistant wasn't there. The woman knew she was the target of the man's stare and couldn't avoid it any longer. "Где он? Где находится Саша?" _(Where is he? Where is Sasha?)_

The pencil in her hand started to shake as did the clipboard. "Я не знаю, сэр." _(I don't know, sir.)_

In lightning speed, the colonel went to the scientist and backhanded her off balance. "Ложь!" _(Liar!)_

She laid there at the man's feet and cradling her stinging cheek. "Слишком поздно. ЩИТ будет знать, что вы делаете, здесь." _(It's too late. SHIELD will know what you are doing, here.)_

Ivanshov knelt down beside the teary-eyed woman and snarled. "Не раньше, чем мой солдат находит его сначала _." (Not before my Soldier finds him first.)_ Horror darkened her pretty face, and she choked a sob. Ivanshov stood up, straightened his uniform coat, and looked to the goateed team leader. " Остановите программу!" _(Stop the program!)_ Confused with the order, the man did and the televisions and Dutch language program shut off. "Солдат, на ноги!" _(Soldier, on your feet!)_ The Soldier did and stood in the neutral position. "У меня есть миссия для вас. Найти мой помощник. Когда вы убить его и любых союзников он это сделал. Я не уход, как или где, просто сделать это и вернуть мне мою книгу! Я ожидаю отчет о полной миссии, когда вы получаете обратно. У вас есть ваши заказы, солдат." _(I have a mission for you. Find my assistant. When you do, kill him and any allies he's made. I don't care how or where, just do it, and bring me back my book! I expect a full mission report when you get back. You have your orders, Soldier.)_

The Soldier answered promptly. "Я признаю. Полученные заказы." _(I acknowledge. Orders received.)_

The floored doll faced scientist started to cry. Ivanshov glowered. "Как и для вас…" _(As for you…)_ He withdrew a pistol holstered to his belt and cocked it, aiming it at the woman. His disapproving scowl became twisted in delight. "На второй мысли." _(On second thought.)_ The pistol was handed to the Soldier. "Стреляйте предателя." _(Shoot the traitor.)_

The Soldier accepted the weapon and didn't blink when she pulled the trigger on the wailing lab-coated woman. A bullet between her eyes silenced her. The Soldier put the pistol on safe and rolled it in her flesh hand to return to its owner.

Pride swelled within the colonel, and he looked at the Soldier as though his own child he just watched take her first steps. "Стреляйте предателя." _(Good work, Soldier.)_ He nodded approvingly to the hollow eyes staring forward. "Пойдем со мной." _(Come with me.)_ With two armed guard escorts, Ivanshov led the woman to the training cell room. Off to the side and doing his start of the day weight training was Dimitri. The other man saw the colonel and entourage and sat up. "Приготовиться. Вы и солдат собираются на миссии. Саша предал нас. Он украл программы книги и бежали в щит для защиты. Это не должно произойти." _(Get ready. You and the Soldier are going on a mission. Sasha has betrayed us. He stole the program book and is fleeing to SHIELD for protection. This must not happen.)_

Dimitri cocked a half smile. "Я не позволит вам вниз, брат." _(I will not let you down, brother.)_

* * *

Sasha sat on the edge of a bed and couldn't stop shaking. Agent Lewis had gotten them to a major city where they were to board a train in the middle of the afternoon. Until then, it was hiding in a motel. Lewis was lost in a lot of thinking after reading the red book all the way through. The specifics of a certain surgical procedure had her mind blown. There was a schematic detailing the complexity of a cybernetic arm and how it was surgically attached to a person. Did the Soviets plan to do this to all the Winter Soldier subjects? Other than what was covered in the book, she didn't know much else about the program.

Lewis sat near a curtained window and occasionally looked out for any suspicious activity. The sergeant's constant fidgeting kept distracting her. "Tell me, Sergeant, who is this…Winter Soldier?"

Hearing the word pained Sasha. "A soldier."

"Yes, I get that since the word Soldier is in the name."

Sasha fervently shook his head and pulled at handfuls of hair. "No, she is a soldier! An American soldier!" He whimpered. "I saw her file. Colonel Ivanshov had it, and I read it ven he vasn't looking. She vas experimented on by HYDRA once before in Vorld Var II."

Lewis looked away from the window and to the distraught young man. "What?"

The information was nothing new to anyone in SHIELD. Nearly an entire regiment of soldiers, the one-o-seventh, was captured by HYDRA and experimented on. Luckily, they had been rescued by Captain Steve Rogers. To hear the subject of experimentation and weaponization was a female seemed too much of a coincidence to the fact the only woman in the one-o-seventh had also been experimented on.

Lewis left her post by the window and sat down next to Sasha. "What was her name?"

Sasha's lower lip quivered in threatening sobs of guilt. "She vas a sergeant. I…I can't remember her name."

A sickening feeling knotted up Lewis' insides. "Barnes… Sergeant Barnes?" Sasha nodded. Lewis gasped behind a hand. "How? How is she alive? I read the report…she fell down a canyon and was presumed dead back in nineteen-forty-five. That was six years ago!"

Sasha mustered what composure he could and explained. "She vas almost dead vhen zey found her. She vas then brought in and operated on. Zey froze her to keep her alive. Zen came Dr. Zola."

Lewis blurting, "Zola?! That traitor! SHIELD gave him a second chance! And this is how he repays us?"

Sasha continued. "He started verking on a special metal arm for her sometime in late nineteen-forty-nine. She had been frozen for four years. A montz later, ze sergeant vas then operated on again witz ze new arm. She vas frozen again and zat is ven Dr. Zola and ze colonel started verking togezer. Zola designed a machine zat erased her memories. After zat, ze colonel took her to a secret base in Siberia and brainvashed her. Ze zings zey did to her…" Sasha's voice cracked and he stopped to bury his face in his hands. "I can still hear her screams…see ze look on her face…she vas so afraid."

Lewis rested a hand on the upset sergeant's shoulder. "When we get to London, I'll have you fill out a detailed report of everything that happened to Sergeant Barnes. Unfortunately, that will be in a few days. It'll be alright. You're safe, now."

No, no he wasn't. She was out there, the Winter Soldier was out there. He was sure Ivanshov already discovered the book gone by now, and there wasn't a doubt he would send the Soldier to hunt him down.


	6. 6 - The First Mission - Pt 3

**Here's the final part to the 'The First Mission' chapters.**

* * *

 **6 – The First Mission – Pt 3**

Dimitri drove down the only road stretching between the facility and the nearest town. Seated beside him in the front passenger seat was the Soldier. She sat in the neutral position and eyes scanning the desolate terrain. She wore a Soviet military uniform and leather gloves to both hide her prosthetic arm and make her blend in better. Her medium length hair was twisted up into a bun, which gave her a professional look. If it weren't for the many pistols and knife holsters strapped to her thighs, chest, and waist, then she would look like any other female soldier.

Her eyes locked onto to something along the right side of the road and barked, "Остановите. Там." _(Stop. There.)_

She pointed with a gloved hand at a point in the snow. Dimitri squinted to see what she was talking about. Then he saw it, what looked like ruts in the snow bed alongside the road. The night's high winds and snowfall had concealed most of them, but they were there nonetheless. Dimitri drove off the road and in the direction he thought the vehicle might have gone. A quarter of a mile ahead was the base of a mountain. Scattered at its base were large boulders and to them, Dimitri went. As they approached them, the back end of an abandoned military vehicle peeked out from behind a rock.

Dimitri's upper lip curled. Without being told, the Soldier got out of the truck, pistol in hand, and went to the snow-covered vehicle. The windows were iced over which made it impossible to see inside. No matter to her. A metal fist was made and smashed through the driver's side window. She aimed the pistol inside and saw no one there.

She stomped back to Dimitri and shut the passenger door behind her. The knuckle portion of her metal hand's glove was sliced and ripped open from the glass cutting through it. That and probably from the stress of the fabric being stretched beyond its means across the unflexing "Целевой объект не существует." _(The target was not there.)_

Dimitri was further enraged. "Город." _(The town.)_ He quickly drove off and towards the town across the tundra. A part of him hoped to find the traitorous bastard frozen dead in the snow while another part wished he was still alive somewhere. He wanted to watch the Soldier kill him through whatever means it would come down to.

Within minutes the town loomed ahead. Dimitri was about to drive onto a side road when the truck's radio blared. "База для поиска команды. Была обнаружена цель. Повтор, была обнаружена цель. Информацию от наших глаз и ушей говорили нам, что цель скрывается в мотеле с американской женщиной." _(Base to search team. The target has been found. Repeat, the target has been found. Information from our eyes and ears have told us the target is hiding in a motel with an American woman.)_

Dimitri grinned evilly. "Скажите мне, где они находятся." _(Tell me where they are.)_

The truck was spun around, and a cloud of snow kicked up beneath its tires. Never had Dimitri driven with such purpose as he was in that moment. He sped down the sparsely trafficked road, dodging and weaving through what vehicles he encountered in his path, paying no mind to speed limits. What should have been a seven-hour drive was accomplished in slightly over six. The closer Dimitri got to his destination, the denser the traffic became. It's not like it mattered.

* * *

Two-thirty in the afternoon closed in around Lewis and Sasha. In just forty-five minutes they would be on the train heading west where they would meet with a team of agents. From there, they would meet with a contact that would drive them the rest of the way out of Russian territory. It was a lot of traveling with too many what-ifs.

Lewis looked at the sleeping Sasha, laying on his side and facing away from her. She commended him on his bravery and planned to push for him to become a member of SHIELD. He was a good man with a lot of heart. While she, herself, was exhausted it was the adrenaline of feeling like a hunted animal that kept her awake and alert.

The agent gazed back out of the motel's second story window. Everything seemed as it had in the past several hours. There were no lingering persons looking suspicious or altered traffic patterns suggesting an armed force was moving in on their location. Lewis scanned the rooftops of the residential and business buildings across the street expecting to see a sniper's head. Nothing. All was quiet and peaceful.

Earlier in the day, there was a flower vendor on the street corner with a basket full of colorful flowers that had Lewis suspicious. Perhaps it was her agency training, or her paranoia making such assumptions. After a couple of hours and an empty basket, the woman left and didn't return. Then there was a little boy trying to sell newspapers. He patrolled the sidewalks, hollering and waving a paper. He, too, eventually left. After the little boy, no other vendors visited the block.

The wind picked up and tossed about several clothes clipped on a line stretching over an alley between two townhouse balconies. It wasn't the only one. There were many clotheslines filled with colorful garments drying in the breeze along the alleyway. Each time a piece of clothing moved, it got Lewis' attention. Her eyes were quick to lock on to any kind of movement.

One bright red shirt got her attention the most. Every time it moved with the wind, a tan shirt would show behind it. She kept thinking it was a Soviet sniper creeping along the rooftop. The agent eventually got used to the shirt and thought nothing of it. Till it moved differently.

Lewis focused on the red shirt, waiting for it to move just right so she could see the tan shirt again. Her blood ran cold in paranoia driven fear. She kept her eyes forward and spoke out loud to Sasha. "Sergeant…" No response. "Sergeant, I need you to wake up." Sasha grumbled, at first, then shot upright wide eyes wide. "We'll be leaving soon for the train station."

Sasha rubbed his eyes and took note of the agent's tense posture and unblinking eyes fixated outside the window. "Agent? Is somezing vrong?" Sasha saw something pass over her face and through her eyes that frightened him. "Agent?"

"Listen and listen closely. Inside my shoulder bag are two train passes and the book."

Sasha shook his head, knowing what was being suggested. "No, I vill not leave wizout you."

Lewis continued as the color washed from her face, but her voice remained steady. "Get the passes and run. Run now. I can't go with you. If I make too much movement, it'll raise suspicion."

"Vhat? _No!_ "

He watched the agent slowly unholster a pistol strapped to her right ankle under her pants and cock it. Her eyes were glossing over with tears and her breathing laboring. "There's no time to argue, Sasha. Right now, I'm looking at a sniper." She gulped, and a tear streamed down her cheek. She knew what was about to happen and was ready to accept her fate as long as Sasha and the book made it to the train station safely. "It's her…It's Sergeant Barnes." Sasha started to break down hysterically. He grabbed at his head and whimpered. "I'll try to hold her off as long as I can. It'll give you some time to slip out through the emergency escape like we talked about."

Sasha pulled himself together the best he could and fumbled with the agent's shoulder bag sitting on a table beside the window. As stated, inside was that evil red book and a white envelope with the train passes. He took both items and stashed the tickets inside his coat pocket, and the book clutched tightly in his hand since it was too big to fit in a pocket. Stuffing it in his belt was a significant risk. Running and or any kind of extensive movement could jostle it loose.

He scrambled to the door and looked over at the agent raising her pistol to take aim at her target. She managed to get two shots off before a bullet to her head instantly killed her on the spot. The urge to vomit overcame the sergeant. Body numb and mind not registering what he was doing, he was running down the motel hallway to the fire escape's access door. Up ahead of him was another door that led to the stairs opening up. Not taking any chances who it was on the other side, he slammed his entire body's force into it.

He heard Dimitri shriek out, realizing he had brutally slammed, and quite possibly broken, the assassin's fingers in the door. Sasha didn't care. He raced to the emergency escape and burst through the door. Because of the hotel building's corner blocking the Soldier's view of him, he felt moderately safe. He rushed down the stairway the fastest he could and took off down the sidewalk.

* * *

Bucky saw her female target's bloody form fall limply to the floor. Kill the primary target and his allies. Retrieve the book. That was her mission. She had to fulfill her mission. To not complete the mission was to fail. Failure not accepted. Kill the primary target. Retrieve the book.

Bucky discarded her Mosin–Nagant Model 1891/30 at her booted feet and unsheathed a knife at her thigh. She leaped off the rooftop ledge and took hold of a clothes' line rope with her metal hand. She cut it with the knife in her right hand the moment her left one grasped the line and used it to swing down onto the street level. Some of the seams of the left sleeve of her uniform coat ripped under the stress of her arm's movement. She used her feet and legs to absorb her impacting the opposite building's wall and dropped to the pavement without injury. The knife was returned to its holster in exchange for a Tokarev TT-33 pistol.

She could see the fleeing enemy sergeant and aimed at him. Despite there being passerby blocking a direct shot, she fired anyway. Kill the primary target. Retrieve the book. Bucky pursued her target, running into the street and ignoring the unfolding chaos around her post weapons fire. The driver of a car slammed on his breaks in a panic the moment he heard the gunshots, not noticing the determined uniformed woman coming right at him. She sprang onto the hood of his car, denting it beneath her weight, and walked over it. She then stepped off the vehicle and continued after the rogue sergeant. The car owner yelling at her didn't bother her. He was not the mission. She saw her mission ahead of her and ran back after him.

Dimitri ran down the fire escape and caught up with the Soldier. Cradled against his chest in his left hand was his right hand's bloody, crooked fingers. Of course, Dimitri couldn't keep up with the Soldier's pace. She was enhanced on HYDRA's super juice which allowed her to run faster than the average person. No worries. She wouldn't be hard to relocate. All he had to do was follow peoples' screams and the sound of gunfire.

Bucky had almost caught up with her target. She raised her pistol to shoot again but was knocked off her feet and sent flying over the hood of a car. The left side of her took the full blow but did not hurt her beyond her capability of functionality. Her shoulder struck the windshield which further ripped her left sleeve. By now, portions of shiny metal could be seen through the fraying fabric.

The driver got out of the car and started to furiously yell at the Soldier. Bucky rolled off the hood, retrieved her pistol off the street pavement and side kicked to the car's driver side door. Bones snapped in the man's legs from the force of the door closing on them as well as sent him back into the car. Bucky continued her pursuit. Across the busy intersection on the other side of the street was the train station. Coming up the tracks was a train.

Must not let the target escape. Must kill the enemy target. Retrieve the book. A delivery truck full of fresh vegetables drove past. Bucky jumped up and grabbed onto its backend railing with her left hand while aiming at her target. Must kill the primary target. Retrieve book. Failure not accepted.

She lined her sights up and fired.

* * *

Sasha didn't care if the approaching train was the right one or not. He _needed_ to get away through any means. He needed to get the book to SHIELD. Then he felt it. An ungodly amount of pain ripped through his lower body. His running instantly stopped, and he was sent to the unmerciful cold hard ground. No. No, he had to get up. The train was right there. If anything, he just needed to throw the book onto the train for someone to find. They'd see it. They'd have to. Once they saw the unspeakable horrors inside, they'd have to turn in to the authorities, and Colonel Ivanshov and HYDRA's operations would be revealed.

He forced himself to his knees and stumbled towards the train station's front double doors. With one hand still tightly holding onto the book, he got the envelope out of his coat pocket. People coming out of the station saw the bloodied soldier and were startled. Sasha tried to speak, but words wouldn't have him. He was in too much pain. Closing on his position from behind was the Soldier, briskly striding with a look of death in her pitiless eyes.

Bucky aimed the pistol again and fired another shot. Her target crashed to his knees and landed face first on the train station steps. Witnesses to the scene cried out in alarm and ran back into the station while others scattered in different directions. They were not the target, so Bucky didn't engage. She knelt down beside the lifeless sergeant and slid the book out of his soft fingers. Spilled from an envelope were two train tickets that blew down the stairs with the wind.

Bucky heard the quickened hustle of people run up on her position. They yelled, "Бросьте ружьё! На колени!" _(Drop the gun! Get on your knees!)_ It was the militsiya.

They were not her handlers. They did not tell her what to do. She would not obey them. One armed man made the mistake of approaching her. He grabbed her left sleeve and tried to yank her to the ground. All he did was pull the sleeve off by the little bit of fabric that remained at a seam. He stared in wordless appall at the metal segments shinning brightly in the afternoon sun.

Bucky saw the man a threat. She held onto the red book in her right hand and grabbed the man's hand around his pistol. A shot was fired, but it ricocheted off Bucky's metal arm. The man was made speechless by this and tried to pull away.

Bucky was quicker than the militsiya could react, as she had been trained. She kicked the man's knee out from under him and spun him around to face the group of eight men. She aimed the man's gun at them and squeezed her forefinger around the man's trigger finger. Just as she shot at them, they fired back. Because she held the man in front of her, his body shielded her from bullet fire. Any bullets that hit her left arm had zero effect on her.

Coming up behind the armed force was Dimitri. With his good hand, streaked in blood from holding his injured one, he took hold of a man's face and broke his neck. The remaining militsiya was finished off just in time for sirens to fill the intersection and street in front of the train station.

Dimitri took a stance beside the Soldier on the steps. "Убей их." _(Kill them.)_

Bucky reached behind her and under her uniform coat with her left hand where a series of pouches were hidden. She removed two small grenades, pulled the pins with her teeth and threw them. More militsiya started to pour out of the three cars just in time to be greeted by exploding grenades.

Bucky threw her last grenade at the cars and used the explosion and smoke from the burning vehicles as a diversion for their escape. In the moments it took for two more emergency responders to arrive, the perpetrators were nowhere to be found.

* * *

Ivanshov anxiously paced the chamber housing the Memory Suppressing Machine. It was late at night, and he was genuinely concerned about the Soldier and his brother's condition. There had been radio silence then they were last heard from in their arriving at the target's location.

A heavy metal door creaking open stopped him in his pacing. He looked hopeful to the source of the sound to see the Soldier and Dimitri. The first thing he noticed was the left sleeve of her uniform completely torn off, and the glove on her hand shredded at the knuckles. His eyes widened in absolute delight as the treasured Winter Soldier program book was handed to him by his favorite new toy.

"Великолепная работа, солдат!" _(Magnificent work, Soldier!)_ Ivanshov saw Dimitri's bloody bandaged hand. "Солдат, доклад миссии." _(Soldier, mission repot.)_

Bucky knew her primary handler wanted a report before leaving for the mission. For this reason, she remembered everything that happened and nodded to oblige.

* * *

 **A BIG, BIG THANK YOU to my friend Procrastinator1 for pointing out an UNGODLY ACCIDENT for chapter 3. I did not realize that I posted a chapter from another story project INSTEAD of the intended chapter. HOLY CRAP I APPOLOGIZE SOOOO MUCH! That is my mistake for not noticing that sooner. That is the first time it's ever happened. I'm normally really good about being careful what I post. I really wish someone would've pointed this out to me MUCH sooner...**


	7. 7 - An End to a Threat

**7 – An End to a Threat**

Sad brown eyes of Agent Peggy Carter read over a message held in loose hands. After the last word was read, the piece of paper was dropped on top of a desk. The news was relayed from a team of SHIELD agents sent out five days ago to rendezvous with a fellow agent escorting a Soviet sergeant. The sergeant possessed knowledge and evidence of experimentation involving turning humans into deadly assassins. In exchange for the information, SHIELD was going to offer protection to the sergeant and another potential ally, a female scientist said to be working with human experiments. But, something happened along the way to significantly hinder those plans. When neither the agent nor sergeant arrived by train to meet with the team, the team did their own investigating. Come to find out, both individuals had been shot and whatever evidence they were carrying was recovered by the killers.

The team cleverly and carefully infiltrated the city the agent and sergeant were to board the train in to find out what happened. A known elite assassin by the name of Dimitri Ivanshov was a culprit in the killings. He was accompanied by a woman dressed in a military uniform that some said had a metal arm.

Peggy read through the message again, unsure of how many times this would be. By now the words were almost etched into her brain. It had to be true what was being said; human experimentation. Why else would the Soviets bring in one of their best, if not the best, to stop the agent and sergeants from fleeing? Just a little bit of information would greatly help, something Peggy didn't have. Where was this top-secret lab these experiments were being conducted? Any and all information concerning the subject died on the steps of a train station.

This was definitely something Peggy would appreciate guidance on. Hopefully, she could rely on since retired Colonel Chester Phillips for this. She folded the message and secured it within its envelope. She casually left the office and exited onto the busy streets of Brooklyn, New York.

* * *

Phillips looked at the message and then to Peggy standing on the other side of his kitchen table. He stared at her with a deadpan expression, his brown eyes contemplating. "Let me get this right. You sent an inexperienced field agent on an important extraction assignment."

Peggy fidgeted with her hands folded before her. "She wasn't entirely inexperienced, sir. She had undergone a few missions like this one, before," she gestured at the message, "without issue."

Phillips kept his watch firm and folded his hands over the message on the kitchen table. "Define _a few_ , Agent Carter."

Peggy bit her red lips together. "Three or four." The man blinked. "If it wasn't for Dimitri and the unidentified woman with him-"

"You mean this woman with the metal arm?"

"Yes, sir. Whoever she was, she was working with Dimitri. There is no doubt in my mind that whatever experimentation Agent Lewis was trying to expose the Ivanshovs are involved in it in some way."

Phillips' eye twitched in mild annoyance. "What are you asking me, Agent?"

Hope filled Peggy, and it momentarily reflected in her eyes. "I could use your assistance helping me prove this."

"Colonel Ivanshov can't be touched. He's too well protected by some pretty powerful people. There's been speculation for years of his questionable _associations_ with Dimitri, but no one can prove it. On paper, the two haven't spoken in years, and there's been no definite confirmation to suggest otherwise."

Peggy was growing more anxious. "What about you? What do you believe?"

Phillips drummed his thumbs together in thought. He knew the woman standing in front of him wasn't going to back down. "I believe you're going to need all the help you can get on this." He returned his attention at the paper under his hands and recalled what he read. Human experimentation sounded familiar. A female Soviet soldier with a metal arm seemed like something HYDRA would have done back in its day. "I might know someone who could possibly tell us more on what this is about."

* * *

Arnim Zola peered through a magnifying lens at a series of tiny cable connections. In his hands were specially curved tweezers to help him navigate the connectors into their appropriate mounts in the back of a computer. He was almost done. All that was needed was to-

"Dr. Zola…"

The small man froze. He knew that voice and grimaced to himself. "Colonel Phillips."

Zola turned and faced the man accompanied by two armed, U.S. Army soldiers. His appearance was surprising. He was wearing an opened dark brown suit coat and slacks with a tan shirt underneath. While it wasn't the uniform Zola was used to seeing, the colors of the clothing let him know the annoyance of a man was still holding onto his military days.

Zola pressed out an obviously forced smile. "How is retirement treating you, Colonel?"

"I've come a long way to speak with you, Doc, so how about you cut the crap and tell me what you know about Soviet human experimentation."

Zola's grin faltered a bit. The Winter Soldier program. How did he know? Who told him? "What makes you zink I would know anyzing about zat?"

"Because it was you who experimented on a bunch of my boys during the war."

"And lady," the scientist jabbed.

Rage exploded within the retired colonel's brown eyes as his eye twitched and nostrils flared. If it wasn't for professionalism's sake, Zola was sure Phillips would've punched him to the floor. This only fueled Zola, and a genuine grin brightened his face.

Phillips' fists were tightly clenched at his sides. "I know HYDRA was bound to have had some friends on the outside. What's to say you didn't slip them a few of your notes or even teach a few scientists your work?"

"Zat is a bold accusation. Do you have any proof supporting zis?"

Phillips reached into his suit coat and withdrew the envelope containing Agent Carter's message. He held it up for the scientist to see. "A SHIELD agent received a letter from a field team about an extraction mission gone wrong. When an investigation was concluded, it was revealed the culprits for murdering an agent and informant were killed by a top Soviet assassin…and a Soviet soldier with a metal arm."

Panic knotted up in Zola's throat, and he swallowed hard to try and remove it. Sergeant Barnes. What were the Russians up to? They were supposed to be training her to be an effective weapon. From what he heard from Phillips, it was working. Zola adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose. "I see."

"What do you know about this?"

Zola recomposed himself. He knew he needed to tell Phillips something or a more in-depth investigation would be made. That was something he couldn't risk. "What I know is very little. Before ze war, Schmidt made allies in other governments. For zeir allegiance, he offered weapons and samples of HYDRA technology in exchange for resources. During my… _darker times_ …and dabbling witz human experimentation I did have a few scientists working underneatz my direction. It is possible one of zem took some of my notes for zier own work before Captain Rogers destroyed ze facility."

Phillips cut his eyes down on the little man. What was being said made perfect sense. "Any names of the scientists you remember don't be shy to share with the rest of the class."

"Of course, Colonel."

Zola told Phillips the names of most of his science team. He wasn't concerned as none of them knew anything about the development of the Winter Soldier and Sergeant Barnes' fate. What they knew was what SHIELD knew which was why Zola wasn't worried about giving their names.

Phillips skimmed over the list of names he wrote down on a pocket-sized notepad. "Have you been _anywhere_ else or spoken to _anyone_ else from your days in HYDRA?"

Zola outstretched his arms. "I've been here, Colonel, conducting my research as ordered. If I were to do somezing your SHIELD agents disapproved of zey would have informed you, no?"

Phillips looked surrounding lab strongly resembling Howard Stark's own. Computers lined the walls and around workstations as electronic arms carefully held and or pieced together what, Phillips couldn't identify. He'd seen the notes and reports on the work being conducted here, none of which sounded remotely suspicious. Then came the handful of SHIELD agents assigned to oversee the labs' projects and their intents.

Still, something didn't set right in Phillips' gut. Constant suspicions clawed in his mind about Zola. Phillips squared his eyes down again on the small man. "I'm going to track down these people." He held up the notepad. "Don't think this is the last you'll be hearing from me." He spun around on the heel of his loafer and left the lab.

A SHIELD agent who had been standing nearby and keeping watch from his post along the wall approached the lead scientist. "Want me to keep tabs on him?"

"No, no zat will not be necessary."

"What about Colonel Ivanshov? The Winter Soldier program is at risk of being discovered. Shouldn't we-"

"I was just about to do zat, actually." Zola slyly smiled at the agent. "Hail HYDRA."

The agent matched the doctor's smile and nodded. "Hail HYDRA."

* * *

Ivanshov's jaw hardened, and his upper lip quivered with a threatening curl. He furiously wadded up the message from Zola in his hand and blindly threw it to the floor. Even though Sasha, the Soldier's traitorous scientist and the SHIELD agent had been dispatched while recovering the book, a significant threat still loomed. This retired U.S. Army Colonel Chester Phillips could not be allowed to continue breathing. He would join his comrades by the hands of the very program he was trying to stop, the Winter Soldier.

Ivanshov rose to his feet and trekked to the central chamber housing the Memory Suppressing Machine. He expected to find the Soldier preparing for an afternoon session only to find otherwise. She was still practicing with Dimitri. The colonel glanced at the machine for a long minute. "Когда был солдат последней очистки памяти?" _(When was the Soldier's last memory wipe session?)_

The lead scientist flipped through several papers on a clip board. "Она получила право сессии после того, как она вернулась из своего первого назначения. Завтра это ее следующей запланированной сессии." _(She received a session right after she returned from her first assignment. Tomorrow is her next scheduled session.)_

"Сегодня," _(Today)_ Ivanshov barked. "У меня есть миссия для солдат, и мне нужно ее миссия prepped и готовы к максимальной эффективности." _(I have a mission for the Soldier and I need her prepped and ready for maximum mission efficiency.)_ He took a step to walk away, but turned back around and faced the scientist. "Я хочу шприц заполнены все, что будет вызвать сердечный приступ, и я хочу это вовремя для солдата следующей миссии." _(I want a syringe filled with whatever will induce a heart attack and I want it ready in time for the Soldier's next mission.)_

The scientist nodded, and the team quickly assembled to do as ordered. To the training cage, Ivanshov went. There, he found his brother and Soldier engaged in a sparring match. They dodged and parried the other's attacks so gracefully to the point it made them appear as though in an intricate dance. Then a harsh punch to the Soldier's face dazed her long enough for Dimitri's to fling her over his shoulder and to the floor. He pressed a boot to her throat, but she wrapped a leg around his person and knocked him off balance.

It was a move that left them tangled on the floor in a stalemate. Ivanshov applauded. "Браво!" _(Bravo!)_ The two combatants stood up, and the Soldier assumed the neutral stance as though expecting orders from her primary handler. "У меня есть миссия для вас. Доклад первичной камеры. Научная группа приступит к подготовить вас, когда вы приедете." _(I have a mission for you. Report to the primary chamber. The science team will proceed to prepare you when you arrive.)_

The sweaty Soldier nodded in oblige and exited the training cage with three armed guards behind her. Dimitri wiped his face off on a towel and studied his brother. "Что это, теперь _?" (What is it, now?)_

"Д-р Zola информировал меня в сообщение что же американский полковник, который завербовал его в щит для работы на них как просят слишком много вопросов. Он знает о миссии на прошлой неделе. ЩИТ видимо расследование. Они знают о вас и солдат." _(Dr. Zola informed me in a message that the same American colonel who recruited him into SHIELD to work for them as been asking too many questions. He knows about the mission last week. Apparently SHIELD did an investigation. They know about you and the Soldier.)_

Dimitri understood what was being requested. "Где сейчас находится этот полковник?" _(Where is this colonel, now?)_

"Лондон, на некоторое время, где Золя назначается главным образом для работы." _(London, for the time being, where Zola is primarily assigned to work.)_ Ivanshov tilted his head to the side at his seemingly pleased brother. Killing came so naturally for the other man and it was something he enjoyed. "Внимательно следите на солдата. Главной целью является ее старый командир от войны. Он распознает ее. Должна ли она стесняется в выполнении миссии, убить полковник и степенный солдат. Не навредить ей, если она начинает бороться обратно. Затем делаете, что нужно, чтобы задержать ее." _(Keep a close watch on the Soldier. The primary target is her old commanding officer from the war. He will recognize her. Should she hesitate in mission execution, kill the colonel and sedate the Soldier. Do not harm her unless she starts to fight back. Then, do what is needed to apprehend her.)_

"Да, сэр." _(Yes, sir.)_

Ivanshov returned to the central chamber where the Soldier's painful screams greeted his ears. The lead scientist rushed over to him with the requested syringe in hand. Within it was a clear liquid. "Он должен быть введен в артерии, ведущие непосредственно в самом сердце." _(It must be injected into the artery leading directly into the heart.)_

Ivanshov took the item in hand and admired it like it was pure gold. The suppression machine whirred down, and the Soldier gasped for breath. Her eyes were watery and her sweat-drenched hair hanging in her face. By now, Ivanshov had the activation words memorized and no longer required the book to recall them.

The military officer circled her exhausted form, stating each word. "Тоска, ржавел, семнадцать, рассвет, печь, девять, мягкий, возвращение домой, один, грузовой вагон." _(Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car)_ He stopped in front of her and smiled. "Солдат?" _(Soldier?)_

Her glossy slate blue eyes rolled upwards to meet the colonel's. "Я жду приказанийm." _(Ready to comply)_

The words of submission were music to his ears. "У меня есть важная миссия для вас. Есть американский человек, который знает слишком много. Это неприемлемо. Он должен быть убит. Вы будет сопровождаться Дмитрий найти и убить его. Как он будет убит это не оружие, но разными способами." _(I have an important mission for you. There is an American man who knows too much. This is unacceptable. He must be killed. You will be accompanied by Dimitri to find and kill him. How he will be killed is not with a weapon but through a different means.)_ He held up the syringe for the Soldier to see. She stood up and accepted the item.

The science lead approached the woman and explained. "Необходимо внедрить его, здесь." _(You need to inject it, here.)_ He pointed to a spot in his chest. "Вот где Superior верхней полой вены. Она ведет прямо к сердцу." _(That is the Superior Vena Cava. It leads right to the heart.)_

Ivanshov spoke in an authoritative tone of voice. "Вы имеете ваши заказы, Солдата." _(You have your orders, Soldier.)_

"Я признаю. Полученные заказы." _(I acknowledge. Orders received.)_

* * *

The London night outside a third-floor hotel room was rainy and cold. Phillips stood in front of his room's window facing the city and sipped on a glass of Scotch. The coolness from the outside was felt against his face wrought with deep wrinkles from stress and a lack of sleep. Since Agent Carter approached him for his assistance regarding a troubling case three days ago, he hadn't slept much. The past two days had drained him the most as he, Carter and a handful of agents worked diligently to track down the scientists Zola named. Two people couldn't be located and were suspected dead following the Red Skull's science facility explosion. One other was in SHIELD custody since he refused recruitment through Operation Paperclip. The other scientists worked with the agency in various labs throughout the United States. Phillips' thoughts brought him back to his suspicions of Zola.

He brought his glass to his lips for another drink when the overhead light in his room blew out. The only illuminance was the city's lights outside, and even then, it wasn't much. Phillips turned and stepped over to a lamp on the dresser. Before he could even tug on the chain to turn it on, he realized he wasn't alone. He could see the shape of a person lurking in the shadows of a corner on the far side of the room. The light was turned on, which allowed the man to better see his visitor.

The first thing he saw was a metal arm, its many segments reflecting the light and shadows of the room. At the top was a red star. Phillips' nervous gaze drifted across the form's leather jacket to meet slate blue eyes framed in black face paint. Loose strands of brown hair dripped rain onto the carpeted floor and down the painted face. He knew that face. He knew those eyes.

"Oh my God," he stated in breathless disbelief. "Sergeant Barnes…We thought you were dead!" Brown eyes reexamined the prosthetic. "What did they do to you?"

Bucky stood there, motionless and unblinking. Hearing the name made her brow lower. Sergeant Barnes. Barnes. Barnes. The name. Barnes. It was familiar. She had heard it before. Her hardened expression softened to something akin to familiarity.

Outside and across the street on a rooftop overlooking the hotel room was Dimitri. He was positioned behind a Mosin–Nagant Model 1891/30 with sights rested on the back of the target's head. From his angle, he couldn't see the Soldier. He didn't need to, to know she was hesitating.

Phillips felt sick. One of his best soldiers and Captain Rogers' closest friend had been taken, experimented even further and turned enemy by the Soviets. "We can help you, Barnes." Barnes. Barnes. There was that name again. It burned and clawed Bucky's mind. Her face contorted and her head jerked a tiny amount. "I know what you did to that agent…that sergeant… You don't have to work for your captors anymore. Just…come back with me. We can help you."

Bucky's left hand clenched into a fist within its fingerless glove. Its cybernetics hummed and a few of the segments leading down into the glove moved. "Stop talking," she snarled.

She slowly neared the man, Phillips taking a step back. Bucky reached into a reinforced, elongated pouch strapped to her belt with her right hand and took out a capped syringe. Phillips wasn't about to allow himself be taken hostage for interrogation or experimenting. The woman lunged for him. He grabbed the lamp off the dresser and threw it at his attacker. She batted it away with her metal hand and ripped off the syringe's cap with her teeth. It was spat out and another attack made.

Dimitri saw the Soldier go for the attack and smirked. That old man didn't stand a chance against her. It didn't mean he wasn't going to put up a fight. He managed to land a punch across her jaw, but it didn't slow her. One headbutt from her dazed the man, leaving him vulnerable. He tried to thwart her hand with the needle only fail.

Phillips stared profoundly and painfully into those empty slate blue eyes. The last time he saw her, she was so full of life and ready to fight HYDRA at whatever cost. Now, here she was made a monster. His chest seized, and he clutched tightly to that hand jabbing her weapon of choice into his chest.

"I'm sorry," Phillips gasped, "I failed…you…Barnes…"

Dimitri stayed sighted in on the scene until the old man stopped struggling and convulsing from a heart attack.

Bucky felt his grip loosen around her hands and allowed him to crumble lifelessly at her feet. She stood there, looking down at the man and felt a twinge of regret. Guilt. Sadness, even. Who was he to her? He knew her. He called her Sergeant Barnes. Did…did she know him? No. No, she couldn't have. She had never seen him before. He was an enemy to HYDRA and to her handlers. He was a danger to her existence. He was a danger to her missions. Bucky's gawk shot upwards to Dimitri. He got up with the rifle in hand and retreated into the shadows. She took that as her cue to do the same and as quietly as she entered the hotel room, she left like a ghost in the night.

* * *

 **I somehow expect some negative criticism from this chapter for various reasons...**


	8. 8 - Consequences of Being Recognized

**8 – Consequences of Being Recognized**

Peggy sprung in her hasty steps out of the elevator and towards Colonel Phillips' hotel room. It was nearing eight-thirty in the morning, and they had somewhere to be by nine-o-clock.

She lightly wracked her knuckles on the wooden hotel door and called out. "Sir, are you ready? There's a car waiting downstairs to take us to the nine-o-clock meeting." Silence. She expected something if even a voiced grumble in protest to the meeting. Peggy knocked again. "Colonel Phillips?" and put an ear to the door.

There was no movement was heard within the room, and it boggled the woman. He was always so punctual that she couldn't imagine him chancing being late. Was he not feeling well? The past couple of days had been particularly rough on him what with his tracking down the named scientists and interrogating them.

Peggy giggled the door handle with the thought of it perhaps being unlocked, but it wasn't. She knocked again, this time harder. "Colonel Phillips, can you hear me?"

When no response came, Peggy felt more unsettled. She opened her clutch purse and withdrew a lock pick set just small enough to fit alongside her Walther PPK/S pistol and favorite tube of lipstick. She wiggled and worked the picks together to pop the door's locks open.

Before she proceeded into the room, she cracked the door open and called again. "Sir? Are you there?" Maybe she was getting herself worked up for nothing. He might've woken up early and ventured off for breakfast. She could just see it now, here she was breaking into his hotel room just in time to be caught by him coming down the hallway.

But this wasn't to be the case when she opened the door a bit more and peeked inside. An invisible force of emotion slammed into her like a sack of bricks. There, laying on the floor beneath the window was the motionless form of Chester Phillips.

Peggy burst into the room and was at the man's side in lightning speed. "Oh my God!" Her first thought was to check for a pulse, but upon close inspection saw there was no need.

The once healthy glow to his complexion was pale and cold. Her eyes instantly started to tear up in a sudden wave of sadness. Her first thought was he had been killed by a sniper. Distraught brown eyes visually searched the window for a bullet hole but found nothing. There wasn't even any blood on the floor to suggest he had been shot or even stabbed.

Was this a crime scene or an unfortunate act of natural causes? Peggy's kept a hand on her fallen mentor's shoulder as she scanned the room for anything out of the ordinary or suspicious looking. To her right was a dresser. On top of it was a drinking glass with what she knew to be Scotch contained within it. Had his glass been laced with a toxin? An electrical cord was visible not far from it. Tracing it with her eyes led her to a fallen lamp, its bulb shattered. She dared not touch it. Did someone use it to knock Phillips in the back of the head? The lamp's square wooden base would easily allow it to be used as such.

With that idea, Peggy felt the back of the man's head and even along the sides for a lump or broken skin that supported this theory. Nothing, which brought her back to her first theory of a poisoned drink. It wouldn't be hard for someone to achieve this by posing as a hotel employee. She'd push to have the glass tested for any foreign residues.

Her heart sank even more in her tight chest. Tears of silent sobs fell from her eyes and down her cheeks. "Who did this to you?" As much as she wanted to say to hell with the world, she couldn't. She needed to alert the agency for an investigation to be conducted. Despite what others would say, she would lead it. She owed it to a man she greatly respected to find his poisoner if that was in fact what happened.

* * *

But after a thorough investigation and careful combing through everything in the room for any spec of evidence, nothing was found. The investigation stretched on all day and into the late night that involved a team of agents and forensic scientists. Traces of recently trekked in mud brought in on wet shoes were found throughout the room's carpet. Two agents and even a hotel employee could vouch for the tracks as they had visited the room at one point in the night after being out in the rain.

Peggy tore through everything of the hotel employee she could, suspecting him of having the laced the glass. That theory proved incorrect as well after the glass and its contents had been tested and retested times over with her persistent orders. This left her with nothing. Meanwhile, during her day's tireless investigating, an autopsy was being performed on the colonel's body.

After fourteen hours, Peggy was left exhausted in one of SHIELD's London offices. In her hands was an autopsy report. As it was, foul play had nothing to do with the colonel's death but instead, a heart attack. This wasn't anything suspicious. Phillips was an older man wrought by stress and lack of sleep.

Guilt wore heavily on Peggy's shoulders. If it weren't for her coming to him for help, then none of this would have happened. She brought this upon him. Before opting for retirement following the war, he made mention how she was going to give him a heart attack. It was meant in joking and nothing harsh or hateful just like how he joked about being more hairs greyer because of her in that serious tone of his. And yet, here he was met by an unexpected end.

Peggy sat the report down on the desktop and closed her already puffy eyes from hours of repressed sobs. "I'm so sorry," she whispered under her strained breath.

* * *

Ivanshov rolled a cigar between his grinning lips. Laying on his desk was a message sent by Dimitri two days ago stating the mission was a success. Now came the waiting for the two people to return. Last time he heard from them, they were an hour away. That was a little over fifty minutes ago. He stood up and walked to his office door just in time for its locks to click open. The door opened, and there stood Dimitri. Behind him was the Soldier in the neutral stance and head down.

Ivanshov gave the Soldier a head to toe look over. He was pleased to see her unharmed and compliant. His attention reverted back to Dimitri. "Были ли какие-либо трудности?" _(Were there any difficulties?)_

Dimitri frowned. He knew what he was about to say wasn't going to be received well, but knew it was something his brother needed to hear. "Миссия была успешной, как указано в моем сообщении. Только одна вещь, хотя. Она была признана целевой." _(The mission was a success as stated in my message. Only one thing, though. She was recognized by the target.)_

The colonel's smile faltered and his gaze settled on the Soldier. The words, "Солдат, доклад миссии," _(Soldier, mission report)_ burned into Bucky's ears.

Her lead lifted, eyes focused straight ahead, and answered. "Цель была привлечена как приказано, тактично и эффективно. Не было обнаружено без насильственной вход в комнату и мое присутствие. Инъекции и целевой умер, как было указано, что он будет." _(The target was engaged as ordered, discreetly and effectively. No forced entry into the room and my presence was not detected. The injection was given and the target died as was stated he would.)_

Ivanshov took a stance before the Soldier and stared her deep in her impassive blue eyes. "Ли целевой сказать вам что-нибудь? Что он позвонить вам?" _(Did the target tell you anything? What did he call you?)_

Bucky didn't hesitate or blink in her explaining. "Сержант Барнс." _(Sergeant Barnes.)_ Her eyes twitched and her head slightly jerked. Barnes. Barnes. The name still brought a familiar rise in her. Phillips. Her target's name was Phillips. He was a retired colonel in the American Army. Phillips. Barnes. Sergeant Barnes. The Army. Colonel Phillips. Chester. Chester? Where did that name come from? Why did it sound familiar? Colonel Chester Phillips. The Army. Sergeant Barnes. "Он назвал меня сержант Барнс." _(He called me Sergeant Barnes.)_

Ivanshov's expression remained unaffected, but his hands were tightly clenched around the other behind his back. Dimitri could see white knuckles shining and knew the other man was greatly bothered by the Soldier's report.

Bucky continued her mission report. "Он сказал... что мы можем помочь вам, Барнс." _(He said…we can help you, Barnes.)_ Her expression contorted in bewilderment. "Он знал о моей предыдущей миссии." _(He knew about my previous mission.)_

Ivanshov rocked on his heels and gave a quiet, "Hmm," under his breath.

Bucky met her handler's careful stare. "Я знал его?" _(Did I know him?)_

The colonel looked at Dimitri. "Скажите техников для подготовки машины." _(Tell the techs to prepare the machine.)_

Dimitri snapped out a single nod and rushed off down the corridor towards the central chamber. Bucky's brow sunk, knowing what was going to happen next. Snapped fingers prompted three nearby armed guards to obey the wordless order. Two guards stood at either shoulder of the Soldier while the third stood behind her.

Ivanshov angrily stormed off in the direction Dimitri disappeared in with the Soldier and guards behind him. He became further infuriated when he did not see any scientists in the chamber and doing as ordered. Fine. He would just take care of matters himself. He knew how to operate the machine and initiated the startup process on its many computers. The guards directed Bucky to the chair, and she sat down, though was more shoved into the seat, by the third guard.

The arm restraints clamped around her upper arms and wrists as the faceplates moved into position at her head. But…she did as ordered. Why was she being punished? Any and all thoughts were quickly ripped from her mind by the machine's electrical current tearing away at her. She painfully screamed, back arched and eyes wide.

Ivanshov didn't care. He was so angry he didn't even bother to attach the instruments that monitored the Soldier of her vitals during the procedures. Coming into the room was Dimitri dragging the team's lead scientist by the collar of his blue and white striped pajamas. The goateed man's eyes were filled with horror not by the screams of the tortured Soldier but by whatever punishment the colonel was going to inflict on him.

The scientist was brought to Ivanshov and thrown to the floor at his feet. He scrambled to his feet and quickly studied the machine's settings. Ivanshov's hand rested on a dial that maintained the electrical current strength. They were set to higher levels than normal, which bothered the scientist.

"Чем вы занимаетесь?! Эти параметры являются слишком высокими _!" (What are you doing?! The settings are far too high!)_ He tried to reach around the authoritative figure to adjust the settings to normal levels, but Dimitri yanked him away. Even one of the armed guards moved in to show a more forceful approach would be taken if need be. The scientist held up his hands to show submission as he pleaded with the colonel. "Вы должны снизить настройки! Они слишком опасны. Она не была должным образом привыкли-" _(You must lower the settings! They are far too dangerous. She hasn't been properly accustomed to-)_

Ivanshov growled, "Не говорите мне что делать, Dr." _(Don't tell me what to do, Dr.)_

The scientist looked frantically between the anguished Soldier and colonel. "Почему? Почему еще одна сессия? Она не должен быть еще два дня!" _(Why? Why another session? She isn't due for another two days!)_

Ivanshov didn't immediately answer the question. Instead, he delayed a response by a few minutes by watching the Soldier. "Она была признана ее цели." _(She was recognized by her target.)_

The scientist was jaw dropped. "Может случиться так, что Вы мучаете ее за то, что мы знали?" _(So you torture her for something we knew could possibly happen?)_ While he had heard the woman's painful cries during procedures far too often, this time was excruciating to endure. It was unnecessary. "Если вы не хотите ей признание ее целей затем покрыть ее лицо! Это как собака для сидения после того, как вы сказали его ногами!" _(If you don't want her recognized by her targets then cover her face! This is like kicking a dog for sitting after you told it to!)_

Ivanshov's upper lip curled in disgust. "Я ненавижу собак." _(I hate dogs.)_ Dimitri snorted a laugh.

The eleven-minute mark passed since the start of the Soldier's memory wipe procedure. Twelve minutes. Thirteen. It was approaching fifteen before Ivanshov shut down the machine. Before it could completely wind down, he was pushing past the scientist to glare down at the Soldier. The skin where the plates had just been was bright red with a mild burn. Her eyes were bloodshot and her nose trickling a little blood.

Ivanshov felt no remorse for his actions. What it a bit extreme? Maybe. Regardless, she should've have questioned him about her mission's target. "Чистота ее вверх и положить ее на льду." _(Clean her up and put her on ice.)_

Dimitri watched his brother briskly leave the central chamber through his peripheral vision. To keep the Soldier compliant within her conditioning, he recited the ten activation words. Her directed reply was hoarse and raspy and barely audible because of. It took some effort for her to get out of the chair, but she did.

Weakness was failure and failure wasn't acceptable. Her knees trembled beneath her weight, and her stance was uncertain. Dimitri showed no compassion or leniency for her weakened physical state and ordered her to the shower room without assisting her.

Bucky tried to remain upright as the hot shower water rained down on her. Her knees buckled beneath her and she dropped to a knee. The only thing that kept her from falling completely to the wet tile floor was her being propped up by her metal arm. She fought to stand back up, right hand clawing at the wall for support. The water was shut off followed by the lead scientist, now appropriately dressed, and Dimitri approaching her. She wasn't even thoroughly dried off before dressed down in black pants and a sleeveless shirt.

From there, she was restrained to a cryo-unit's body support. An IV was inserted into her right arm, and the lid to her unit was closed. The warmth that still lingered over her from the shower was quickly replaced by frigid air rushing over her and into her lugs. Then everything stopped for her. Layers of ice and frost dotted the wet portions of her body as strands of damp hair became ice sickles. Her almost lifeless eyes stared forward through the unit's glass pane where Dimitri stood.

His muscular arms were crossed over his broad chest and his jaw tense. Coming up behind him was his brother. Dimitri questioned. "Почему на льду? Мы до сих пор нуждаются в ней." _(Why on ice? We still have need of her.)_

Ivanshov scoffed. "Чем дольше она остается спать она становится более нестабильным. Я не могу шанс ее вспомнить что-то о ее прошлом. По крайней мере пока она находится в стазис, она может сохранить ее принадлежности больше." _(The longer she remains awake the more unstable she becomes. I can not chance her remembering something of her past. At least while she is in stasis, she can retain her conditioning longer.)_ He folded his hands behind him and rocked on his heels, as was customary. Across his thin lips was a smug grin. "Когда нам нужно ее снова, мы будет разбудить ее." _(When we need her again, we will awaken her.)_

The two men took a moment to analyze the woman a final time then walked away. The overhead lights to the center chamber where the cryo-unit was kept were turned off, leaving the amber glow from the unit as the room's only light.

* * *

 **Inb4: "Peggy Carter was always so thorough in her investigations," SHH! This isn't a Peggy Carter fanfic; therefore, I'm not going into extreme in-depth details on her investigating and interrogating everyone. An investigation was made. Nothing suspicious was found. The end. Also, feel free to leave reviews!**


	9. 9 - Change of Handlers

**If anyone spots some major typos, my apologies. I pushed to finish this chapter with a nauseating headache before Tropical Storm Gordon could come my way and potentially kill power for a few days. I would start on the next chapter, as I already have it planned out, but right now all I want to do is overdose on Tylenol and lay down.**

* * *

 **9 – Change of Handlers**

In the two years following her last mission, Bucky remained in cryo-sleep. Then came the day she was awoken again. Another memory wipe session was performed, just to be certain, and the activation words were spoken. To make sure she was up to full mission capabilities, Dimitri took a day to spar with her and have her practice at the gun range. She was sharp as ever in her combat skills and suited up in her leather jacket and weapon holsters.

Ivanshov, looking rather pale and at a worse for wear in health, approached the prepared Soldier. He outstretched a hand from behind him that held onto a reinforced black face mask. It looked like an altered chemical warfare mask with a tinted front lens. "Так что ваши враги не видеть ваше лицо. Вы должны оставаться безымянным призрак." _(So your enemies do not see your face. You are to remain a nameless ghost.)_ The Soldier accepted the mask and slid it on without question. She tightened it, so it fit more snuggly against her face, ignoring the few strands of her hair caught in the buckles. "Ваша миссия проста. Убить основной мишенью и любые вражеские противников, которые представляют собой угрозу для вас или вашего обработчика, который будет сопровождать вас. Вы получите файл, у главной мишенью в портфель. Мне нужен этот файл. Она содержит важную информацию о французское правительство и его военные. Понял?" _(Your mission is simple. Kill the primary target and any enemy hostiles that pose a threat to you or your handler that will accompany you. You will obtain a file the primary target will have in a briefcase. I need that file. It contains important information about the French government and its military. Understood?)_

Bucky's response was muffled by the mask, but still understandable. "Я признаю. Полученные заказы." _(I acknowledge. Orders received.)_

As soon as she was dismissed, she followed Dimitri outside and got in the back seat of a military vehicle while Dimitri sat in the front. The drive across the tundra terrain was slow and long, given the high winds and limited visibility range through the snow. In time, they arrived at an idle train waiting for them. Once on board, the train crept forward in its gradual increase in speed.

In three days, the two people arrived at France. The mission was executed almost flawlessly. It took blowing up several cars and a bridge to thwart pursuing militant authorities for Dimitri and the Soldier's retreat.

Bucky's return to the Siberian facility with the briefcase in hand containing the desired information earned praise from the ailing Ivanshov. He coughed, a handkerchief held in hand at his mouth. His body quaked violently with the spasm so much that Dimitri had to support him. The colonel was nearly carried back to his personal quarters, leaving the Soldier to stand in place. She hadn't been ordered to do otherwise. So, she stood there in the neutral position.

Nearly two hours later, Dimitri returned in his trek to his brother's office. He saw the Soldier ever motionless and kicked himself in the ass for completely forgetting about her. After all, he had more important things to worry about than where he left a deadly weapon. He escorted her to her old containment cell where she would await being fed as a reward for a job well done on her mission.

The next day, she was returned to her cryo-unit for another eight months' suspension.

* * *

The next time she was awoken, she found herself face to face with a new primary handler. He was a major in rank with the given promise of promotion should he command the Winter Soldier program appropriately. Dimitri scowled at the stocky major disapprovingly from where he stood behind him. This man was not his brother, the late Colonel Ivanshov and for that, would never respect him. Had his brother received proper medical attention in the early stages of his tuberculosis, he would still be alive.

The heavyset major analyzed the Soldier in her neutral stance beneath his bushy pepper colored eyebrows that matched his just as bushy mustache. His plump lips thinned in an approving smile as his hazel eyes held a sinister hunger in them. "Я хочу демонстрацию ее способностей." _(I want a demonstration of her abilities.)_

Dimitri's jaw clenched with the refrain of verbally lashing out in protest to the order. When the major turned to look at him, the assassin nodded reluctantly and led the Soldier to the training cage.

He eyeballed the woman. She knew what was coming and was ready for it judging by her appearance. Though she stood primarily in the neutral position, her attention was set squarely on him and her fists balled at her sides. Her long, unruly hair was a stringy mess around her face as dark circles lined the underneath of her blue eyes. She looked menacing, but not to Dimitri. He had spent enough time with her in the training cage that she didn't intimidate him.

The major barked, "Начнете!" _(Begin!)_

Both combatants closed in on the other. Attacks in the form of punches and kicks were made, all of which were deflected by their opponent. "Вы слишком медленно," _(You are too slow,)_ Dimitri stated. He had had more strenuous practices than this with the Soldier, even fresh out of cryo-freeze. An elbow to her face dazed her, and he spin kicked her to the floor.

She wasn't down for long when she flipped herself back up. Another series of attacks were exchanged between the two, Bucky fiercer this time around. The major smiled wickedly. "Убей его." _(Kill him.)_

Dimitri looked between the military officer and the Soldier. To her, an order was an order, and he knew she wouldn't stop till that order was fulfilled. He jerked his boot knife out of its sheath and readied for whatever it was the Soldier was about to do to him.

The order made no sense to Bucky. Her new target wasn't a threat. He never posed any danger in the past. He had served her previous handler well and without complaint. Regardless, an order was an order. To not obey was failure and failure wasn't acceptable. She charged at her target and swung her metal fist this way and that, the man narrowly avoiding getting hit each time.

Dimitri swung the knife at the Soldier's face, nicking her check only to get hit in the side with a rib fracturing blow from her left fist. His right wrist was twisted to its breaking point and the knife yanked from his loose grip. Bucky kicked a knee out from under him that allowed her to send him to the floor with her pinning him down. She brought the knife down towards his wide-eyed face without hesitation.

The major bellowed out, "Стоп!" _(Stop!)_ and Bucky did with the knife less than an inch from Dimitri's face.

Dimitri met those cold and emotionless eyes. Was this what her victims saw before meeting their demise? The major nodded to an armed guard standing post outside the training cage, and the door was unlocked. In strode the man wearing a smug grin. He stopped next to where the two combatants were and spoke.

"Я не заботятся о том, как много людей были убиты или успех ваших прошлых миссий. Вы не значите дерьмо ко мне. Единственное, что на этом объекте, что я заботиться о является солдат. Вы расходные, г-н Ivanshov. Я могу иметь мой солдат убить вас в любое время. Не забывайте, что. Итак я предлагаю вам начать, показывая мне, что я заслуживают уважения. Понял?" _(I do not care about how many people you have killed or the success of your past missions. You don't mean shit to me. The only thing at this facility I care about is the Soldier. You are expendable, Mr. Ivanshov. I can have my Soldier kill you at any time. Do not forget that. So, I suggest you start showing me the respect I deserve. Understood?)_ Dimitri nodded. "Я не слышал вас." _(I did not hear you.)_

"Да сэр, майор Волошин." _(Yes sir, Major Voloshin.)_

"Хорошо. Стенд вниз, солдат." _(Good. Stand down, Soldier.)_ Bucky immediately did as ordered. She dropped the knife beside Dimitri's head and stood up with hands relaxed at her sides and head down. Voloshin was more than satisfied. "Она повинуется хорошо. Я надеюсь увидеть тот же уровень послушание на предстоящей миссии." _(She obeys well. I hope to see the same level of obedience on an upcoming mission.)_ He patted her on her metal shoulder and left the cage.

Bucky was prepped and readied for another mission. She dressed down in her tactical jacket, weapon holsters, and mask and set out with Dimitri to hunt out a rogue HYDRA scientist. Apparently, it was happening regularly. Scientists recruited into SHIELD through Operation Paperclip were spilling more secrets than those still dedicated to HYDRA's ideals felt comfortable with. There was the telling what SHIELD wanted to know, then there was the telling what HYDRA didn't what known. Those people were then marked for , and the Soldier sent out to neutralize their threat should they try to reveal HYDRA's reforming.

Voloshin frowned in disapproval of the Soldier's appearance. While he approved of her tactical gear, he didn't like her hair in her face. He snapped his fingers at a female scientist nearby taking notes of the Soldier's vitals before being sent out on her mission. "Что это? Посмотрите на ее волосы! Это выглядит ужасной! Я не могу иметь мой солдат в поле, глядя как это! Это исправить!" _(What is this? Look at her hair! It looks horrific! I can't have my Soldier in the field looking like that! Fix it!)_

Dimitri slapped a loaded clip into his pistol and arched a brow. The Soldier was an assassin and deadly weapon, not a damn baby doll to dress up and put bows in her hair! A funny mental image struck Dimitri that he unknowingly smiled to; the Soldier with pigtails and pink bows in her hair, gunning down the major. At least she looked pretty executing her mission. Priorities.

The female scientist blinked in surprise. "Помилование?" _(Pardon?)_

Dimitri groaned out loud. "Нет времени. Я буду делать что-то о нем на пути к цели на месте." _(There's no time. I'll do something about it on the way to the target's location.)_

Bucky was dragged behind her field handler and out to the truck. Like a child being forced along, she was tossed into the back seat and the door closed behind her. Dimitri got in the front seat and ordered the driver to go. Come to think about it, the Soldier hadn't even received her next mission details. Oh well. He'd fill her in. He knew what to do.

"Солдат, ваша миссия состоит в ликвидации изгоев ученый HYDRA. Он находится в пути в безопасном доме до тех пор, пока щит может извлечь его. Видимо они не узнать в первый раз, они пытались это с что глупый ребенок, Саша. Вы должны перехватывать и ликвидировать, прежде чем он достигнет своего назначения. Ли вы выполняете?" _(Soldier, your mission is to eliminate a rogue HYDRA scientist. He is in route to a safe house until SHIELD can extract him. Apparently they didn't learn the first time they tried this with that stupid kid, Sasha. You are to intercept and eliminate before he reaches his destination. Do you comply?)_

Bucky rolled her eyes to the man's peering at her over a shoulder from the front seat and answered. "Я признаю. Полученные заказы." _(I acknowledge. Orders received.)_

* * *

It was nightfall of the second day by the time Dimitri and Bucky arrived at their destination. It was a dark, backwoods road in the mountains that the target was said to be taking to the extraction point. Dimitri parked the truck on a bridge overlooking the dark road beneath and cut off the engine and headlights.

He got out and leaned against the bridge's railing. "Теперь мы ждем." _(Now we wait.)_

Bucky joined him, metal arm reflecting the overhead waxing crescent moonlight. He still hadn't fixed her hair. The stringy locks blew around her face in the gentle breeze, which she thought nothing of. She didn't even attempt to remove it from her face. As it was, it could prove a hindrance to her visibility.

Dimitri withdrew his boot knife and cut off a length of his boot lace. They were already too long, anyway, and something that needed to be done before now. He attempted to braid the Soldier's tangled hair but had no idea how to braid. So it looked more like a twisted disaster than a braid tied at the end with the fraying shoelace piece. It worked. It kept her hair out of her face. Here he was an assassin with numerous kills to his name, and he was fucking braiding a girl's hair. He frowned. He needed something to do to take his mind off this. Dimitri stuffed his knife back in his boot and decided to re-lace his boot, so the ends were even. He hated things unbalanced or out of order.

As he did this, the sounds of vehicle engines could be heard nearing their position. "Тех, кто бы щит агентов и цели. Оставьте никто живым." _(Those would be the SHIELD agents and target. Leave no one alive.)_

"Признал." _(Acknowledged.)_

Bucky climbed over the railing and sat, waiting for the right moment. Because the mountainous road had snow along its sides and was curvy, the vehicles were driving slow and cautiously. As soon as the second car was about to pass beneath the bridge, she dropped down on top of it. She impacted its roof, denting it in and breaking the back and passenger windows. She acted immediately to execute her mission. Kill the target. Leave no one alive. Gunfire erupted through the roof of the car. She was being fired at. Bucky reached behind her into a pouch on her tactical belt where she kept her grenades. She got one, pulled the pin with her teeth and tossed it into the broken back window. Kill the target. Leave no one alive. Bucky ran along the car's hood and leaped across the three-foot distance to the leading vehicle. A moment later, the second car exploded and crashed into the mountainside wall.

She was being shot at again. Bucky unholstered her pistol at her thigh and aimed it where the vehicle's driver would be. Several shots were fired, and the car started to violently swerve out of control. She dove off the top of it and rolled onto the highway, coming to a stop in a kneeling position.

Tires screeching and people yelling echoed the otherwise quiet air until the car colliding with the side railing sounded. Over the railing it went, tumbling and crashing along the boulders that littered the steep slope all the way to the bottom. It didn't even make it to the bottom when it, too, exploded in flames. The car left a trail of burning debris to its final resting place. Bucky wasn't satisfied with this result and ventured ever so carefully down the ravine to make sure everyone was dead.

Sure enough, one of the agents had managed to free himself from the car before it began its downward tumble. He was bloody-faced and barely able to crawl. Bucky took hold of her sidearm and shot him twice in the head.

Dimitri pulled up next to the second car engulfed in flames and pouring smoke. Too bad he wasn't unable to identify any of the bodies burned beyond recognition within it. He drove past it and to where the damaged guardrail was up ahead. He positioned the truck just right so the headlights provided some illuminance. He got out to see the Soldier's shadowy form climbing back up the rocks.

Bucky rejoined her field handler and stood in the neutral position as she spoke. "Основная цель ликвидировать. Все агенты мертвых." _(Primary target eliminated. All agents dead.)_

Dimitri nodded in approval. "Хорошая работа, солдат." _(Good work, Soldier.)_

They got back in the truck and left the scene to return to the facility.

* * *

Voloshin was ecstatic. "Д-р Zola могут отдохнуть, теперь, что один из его изгоев ученых была позаботиться о." _(Dr. Zola can relax, now that one of his rogue scientists has been taken care of.)_ He cut his eyes down on Dimitri, refusing to compliment him. "Лед ее, пока мне нужно ее снова." _(Ice her, till I need her again.)_

Dimitri nodded, and the science team did as ordered. The Soldier was stripped of her holsters and changed into her cryo-grown. It was a pathetic article of clothing. Perhaps Dimitri could talk Zola into something special made for her. With that, the Soldier was restrained to the body support and the unit sealed. Dimitri looked in the direction the major had walked away in and flexed his hand around his pistol, holstered at his thigh. He really did not like that guy.

* * *

Bucky wasn't sure how long she answered to Voloshin as a handler. The passing of years while asleep felt only like days when awake and active for missions. She had no idea it had been five years. In that time, she executed six missions, two of which were high profile assassinations. Back into cryo-sleep she went. Each time she awoken, she was wiped and reset with the activation words. Had she still owned her memories and mind, she'd have realized one of her oldest handlers, Dimitri, was no longer present. He wasn't even mentioned.

Why he was absent was something the now Colonel Voloshin ordered to not be disclosed. A part of him wondered if the Soldier being told how her previous field handler's plan to assassinate him backfired would impair her. The first order he gave her was to kill the man, which he decided against and stopped before she could execute. Voloshin merely smiled at the oblivious Soldier and directed her to her next mission. And just as ordered, the Soldier returned three days later with the British military intel he requested.

She was placed back in cryo-sleep without a second thought, wearing a black body suit. It was specially designed by Zola to monitor the Soldier while in stasis. Voloshin didn't ask any questions as he more than trusted the little man when it came to the Soldier's wellbeing.

* * *

 **Now to do some fast forward writing. There's still plenty to write for later content like the Stark assassination, as well as some other stuff. This might not set well with some (if not all) readers but I'm going to tie this story into my other Winter Soldier based fanfic, A Grim Fate. In time, I'm going to bring in the OCs for bit parts.**


	10. 10 - Mission: December 16, 1991

**10 – Mission: December 16, 1991**

For twenty years, the Winter Soldier came and went like a ghost, leaving SHIELD scrambling to try and capture or at least identify who the mysterious Soviet assassin was. Others thought the Soldier a made-up story, something akin to the boogeyman. There were no eyewitnesses with substantial evidence to suggest their existence other than stories saying how they saw a person with a metal arm. High ranking members within SHIELD were becoming more frustrated by the stories, either because of the constant fabrications with no real proof or because if such a being existed, they couldn't apprehend them. Yet more high-profile assassinations continued as well as several low-key ones against people SHIELD thought unimportant compared to others. They were just old scientists recruited out of HYDRA shortly after the war. Was that why they were killed? If so, why so late after joining SHIELD? It didn't make any sense why a Soviet-based assassin would want ex-HYDRA scientists dead.

The only person SHIELD felt would know for certain was now six feet underground after having passed away from a fatal diagnosis. They felt that when Dr. Arnim Zola died, a lot more died with him than they knew about. It was an unsettling thought.

For others, it was just the beginning.

* * *

It was now nineteen-ninety-one, and the Soldier brought out of cryo-sleep. Unblinking slate blue eyes stared down at the program technician responsible for waking her. While Bucky's mind was starting to come to, the rest of her body remained motionless. Not like she could do much anyway, being restrained with thick straps to her cryo-unit's body support. Once her vitals normalized, she was unstrapped and carried away by two men. Her weak form was forcefully sat in the Memory Suppressing Machine's chair where she was restrained once more. The machine whirred as metal plates shaped to fit snuggly against a person's face cradled the sides of her head.

What started off as a tingle significantly intensified to skull-splitting pain. Bucky screamed out in agonizing pain, fists tightly clenched. It was, for this reason, the fingernails of her right hand were kept short so they wouldn't cut into her palms again. The pain shredding through her head and into her brain felt as though it would never end. Then, it gradually reduced in severity. The plates snapped away from the sides of her face and head as her body spasmed.

From somewhere behind her came the voice of her latest handler, Colonel Vasily Karpov. "Тоска, ржавел, семнадцать, рассвет, печь, девять, мягкий, возвращение домой, один, грузовой вагон." _(Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak, furnace, nine, benign, homecoming, one, freight car)_ He circled the Winter Soldier glazed with sweat and rampant breathing returning to normal. Her expression was dead and empty of emotion and her body motionless except for the rising and falling of her chest. She gazed up at him through long strands of brunette hair stuck to her damp face. Karpov closed the red book in his hands. "Солдат?" _(Soldier?)_

Bucky watched the dirt-stained book be set down not far from her cybernetic arm and gawked at it for a moment. The familiarity of it stared back at her. Had she seen it before? Something clawed at the back of her mind, and she was curious to know what it was. She pushed it out of her mind. She was being spoken to by her commander, and she needed to reply. It was expected of her.

Bucky rolled her eyes forward and growled, "Я жду приказанийm." _(Ready to comply)_

Karpov nodded in acceptance. "Я имею миссию для Вас," _(I have a mission for you)_ and handed the soldier a file pertaining to the mission. "Санкция и извлечение. Никакие свидетели. _(Sanction and extract. No witnesses.)_

Bucky panted for air. Her head was still reeling and her body tingling following the brain wipe procedure. It was required. She knew this. They kept her mind focused and clear of unimportant details of past missions. Now, she had another task to fulfill. It was her duty. To not do so was failure and failure was not an option. She wearily got to her bare feet and forced herself to remain standing upright. Weakness. Her body was weak. This wasn't acceptable. It didn't matter she just went through a procedure after being woken up.

Bucky accepted the file with her cybernetic arm and flipped it open with her right hand. Paperclipped to the inside were two reports of two separate people; a man and a woman. The man was named Howard Stark. The woman was Maria Stark. Stark. Howard Stark. The name. Stark. The name struck something in her. The mission. Howard and Maria were part of her mission.

Karpov lifted Howard Stark's profile and picture to reveal a detailed report underneath. She was to recover what the Starks were transporting; a super soldier serum. The colonel spoke with an authoritative tone. "Вы имеете ваши заказы, Солдата." _(You have your orders, Soldier.)_

Bucky closed the file and passed it back to her handler. "Я признаю. Полученные заказы." _(I acknowledge. Orders received.)_

* * *

The flight from Siberia to New York was long. Bucky sat, strapped into the seat of a HYDRA operated C-130. While the aircraft did not bear the signature skull and tentacle logo, its pilots and crewmen were very much affiliated with the rogue organization. Four of the nine passengers onboard the aircraft happened to be two armed Soviet soldiers ordered to keep the Winter Soldier in check while the other two were technicians. It was highly unlikely the technicians would be needed, but they were required to be there regardless should there be an emergency medical situation concerning the Asset.

One of the pilots spoke over the aircraft's intercom system. "Пятнадцать минут до прибытия местоположения." _(Fifteen minutes till location arrival.)_

Not needing to be told what to do next, Bucky unbuckled from her seat harness and strode over to a motorcycle secured in place with cargo straps. She removed the straps and sat down on the bike's seat. The aircraft began its descent. Five minutes remained till location arrival. The motorcycle roared to life, and its engine was revved. One of the plane's crewmen lowered the back loading ramp. A strong gust of night air whooshed into the aircraft, tossing stray strands of Bucky's long braided hair about her impassive face. She watched the trees and surrounding terrain become larger through the view of the lowered ramp.

By now, the bottom of the ramp was barely two feet from the ground as the beginning of an airstrip zoomed past its underneath. The crewman standing at Bucky's left pressed a hand to an earpiece and nodded. He waved a gloved hand at the Soldier and with that, she revved the motorcycle a second time and sped off the ramp. She landed with a jolt onto the runway and rode down a taxi lane to the rest of the small airport's tarmac. A security gate leading from the tarmac to an outside access road was opened for her, and she sped through, kicking up loose rock and dirt as she made an abrupt left turn.

Bucky recalled the details of the back-road route she was to take that would bring her to her destination. She couldn't be late, or she would miss her window of opportunity. To be late would be to fail her mission. Must not fail. Retrieve the serum. Leave no witnesses. That was her mission. Bucky arrived at a narrow road dimly lit by road lights. This was where she needed to be. This was the road Howard, and Maria Stark was expected to drive down. She turned off her motorcycle's headlight and crept down the dimly lit road. She saw an opening in the tree-line to the right of the road and disappeared within it. She would wait, out of sight of her unsuspecting targets.

Bucky waited, repeating her mission objectives over and over in her mind. She had been trained to do this. It was important.

A vehicle was heard near her position. When it passed by the Soldier tucked away in the shadows, she immediately identified it as the car suspected of containing the serum. The serum. It was her mission. The motorcycle's headlight was flicked on, and the key in the ignition turned. She merged onto the road and pursued the Starks' car. It didn't take her long to close in on the car's position. Bucky withdrew a gun holstered at her upper back and drove up beside the passenger side of the car. A single shot at the front wheel veered the car off course and head-on into a tree. The front end of the car was crushed, and the engine caught fire. Bucky quickly brought her motorcycle around and pulled up behind the wrecked car. She cut off the engine and kicked down the motorcycle's stand. Her hollow eyes remained locked on the closed trunk as she approached it with eager steps. She ripped the locked trunk open with her cybernetic arm to discover a sealed heavy-duty case within. Its lid was opened, and much to her satisfaction were five IV bags full of the super soldier serum.

Bucky's attention was quickly ripped away from the case's contents and to the sound of movement. The driver's side door opened and out fell Howard Stark. He was roughed up and bloodied in the face. He crawled on his hands and knees, mumbling barely cohesive words.

"Help my wife." Bucky walked around the trunk of the car and to the dazed old man. Howard Stark. That name. It tugged at her. "Help…" Stark breathlessly continued, lightheaded and struggling to breathe through the pains in his chest.

Bucky reached down to the man, doing his best to stay lucid, and wrapped the fingers of her right hand in a fistful of his hair. She harshly jerked him to his knees and gawked down at him. Her metal fist was raised and ready to follow her orders of leaving no witnesses. Their eyes locked. That face. Stark. Stark. Howard Stark. Did…did she know that name? Had she possibly heard it before in a previous mission? If that were so, then the brain wipe procedure would have erased him from her memory. She needed to keep a clear mind to allow her better focus for the next mission. Her mission. The super soldier serum. Leave no witnesses. That face…

Howard instantly recognized his assaulter and was brought back to the last time he saw her in nineteen-forty-five. How could he forget those eyes? Seeing her rendered him speechless. How was she even alive?! He read Captain Rogers' report. Sergeant Jamie Buchanan Barnes fell to her death from Dr. Zola's train. Yet, here she was. _Alive!_ Damn near fifty years later she didn't look much different than when he last saw her. But the void look in her eyes let him know this wasn't the same woman, that American hero from the one-o-seventh infantry and Howling Commandos, he used to know.

Howard gasped in disbelief. "Sergeant Barnes…"

Maria groaned a cry from where she was trapped in the front seat of the car. "Howard!"

Barnes. Stark. Bucky grew frustrated with what, she wasn't sure. This man in her clutches was a part of her mission! He was a witness! Leave no witnesses! Failure to do so would not be tolerated. She tightened her metal fist and pummeled the man in the face over and over until his skull cracked.

Maria cried out for her husband again. She watched him be dragged through the dirt and returned to the driver's seat. She sobbed at the image of his lifeless head turned towards her, resting on the steering wheel and knew she was next. There was nothing she could do. She couldn't run. Her legs were pinned between her seat and the collapsed dashboard.

Leave no witnesses. Bucky stormed around the back of the car and to the front passenger side where her second target sat. She wrapped her bare hand around the older woman's throat and tightened her grasp. The Winter Soldier felt the pulsing of Maria Stark's heartbeat slowly fail in the palm of her hand. The older woman clawed at the hand and choked for air. Bucky heard Maria's raspy pleas to stop and felt her hot tears stream down her hand. She was following orders. It was a part of her mission. No witnesses. When the last bit of life left Maria did the Soldier release her target's neck.

A surveillance camera. She was being watched. She couldn't allow this. Bucky withdrew her pistol holstered to her thigh and approached the camera. She cut her eyes down on the offensive object and shot out its lens. Her mission was almost complete. The serum. Combat booted feet returned to the car's trunk to get the case. It was secured to the motorcycle, and she rode away down the dark road.

Bucky retraced her route to the small airport where she had been dropped off. The gate was opened for her once again and closed behind her. She saw a dark figure standing outside the air traffic control tower and nodded at them. The figure nodded back and disappeared behind an upper tower door. Off in the distance were the blinking lights of the C-130. The sound of its engines was faint at first but grew louder as it banked for an approach at the runway.

Bucky sped off towards the very end of the runway and watched the aircraft come in. She revved the motorcycle and tore down the pavement. The C-130 roared over her and lined up in front of her. It descended so low that the tires of its back landing gear screeched upon striking the runway. Sparks erupted from the underneath of the lowered loading ramp to allow the Soldier entry. Bucky rode up the ramp and once inside the aircraft, hit the brakes to abruptly stop the motorcycle. The ramp closed and the plane lifted back into the sky. Bucky sat there for a moment before she turned the motorcycle off and kicked down its stand.

The two Soviet soldiers stood on either side of her, rifles armed and aimed at her. She slowly got off the motorcycle and took a stance beside it in the neutral position. The soldiers lowered their weapons to allow the technicians to do a full assessment of the Soldier.

Bucky stood there, expression placid and voice steady as she answered the procedural medical questions. Meanwhile, the crewmen moved in to re-secure the motorcycle with the cargo straps. This caused a reaction in Bucky, and she took hold of the crewman between her and the serum's case. She wasn't about to let anyone near her primary mission objective. The soldiers became alarmed and took aim at her.

" Стенд вниз, актива! Освободите его!" one yelled in warning. _(Stand down, Asset! Release him!)_

Bucky forcefully shoved the crewman to the side and unfastened the case from the motorcycle. Her metal hand wrapped around its handle and she returned to the neutral position. The soldiers weren't convinced and stayed on guard. She was ordered to buckle back into her seat within the aircraft, and she did with the case kept close.

It was an hour into the return flight before the soldiers deemed the Asset no threat and completely relaxed. They even fell asleep. As for Bucky, she stayed awake the entire trip. She wasn't about to chance closing an eye should someone try to take the case away.

* * *

The C-130 landed at a HYDRA controlled airstrip a few miles from the Siberian base. Waiting for their arrival were two snow trucks ready to transport them. Bucky trudged across the snow-covered concrete of the flight line to one of the vehicles. She loaded into it, still clutching onto the case.

It was almost an hour drive to the facility. The outside doors were opened and in strode the Asset with the serum case in hand. She was escorted to Colonel Karpov anxiously awaiting her. She set the case down before him and opened it so he could see the five blue bags for himself. An awestruck smile decorated his expression. "Хорошо сделанный Солдат." _(Well done Soldier.)_

Mission completed. What she was ordered to do, she did and efficiently. That was her purpose; to execute her mission orders without failure.

* * *

 **As I look as the scant # of views and the 0 reviews, I can't help but wonder what I'm doing wrong with this story...**


	11. Not The Only Winter Soldier

**Okay so for anyone not aware, BRR109 has quit the fan fic site. As I stated in a copy/paste message on other stories I reposted (that she deleted smh) IDK if temporary or permanently. She got pretty overwhelmed with some IRL stuff and basically went meltdown mode. I'm not sure what her ultimate plan was with this story. She already had a handful of future chapters written for TWS and Civil War and even a post Civil War / pre-Infinity War chapter. Not sure if I should TRY to pick up where she left off. Personally, I hate gender bends. They're unoriginal. Any thoughts? Yes? No?**

 **Anyway, here's the last chronological chapter she had _mostly_ written. I kind of threw some stuff together for the last few paragraphs. It's vague in detail. Not doing that Russian to English thing she was doing. My brain blows up trying to read that shit.**

* * *

 **11 – Not the Only Winter Soldier**

She could hear their painful screams echo down the hallway from the confines of her containment cell. Bucky sat on the sad excuse for a cot and listened. Judging by the varying octaves of voices, she easily identified them belonging to five different people, one of which was a female. Over time, the facility became quiet. Hauntingly quiet. Were they going to get metal arms, like hers? Aside from the super soldier serum, what other modifications were they to receive?

Hours passed. Silence still lingered in the air until it was broken by distant voices from somewhere out of sight down the hallway. One of the voices Bucky immediately recognized as a scientist that oversaw her routine checkups before and after missions. He spoke of the procedure being a success.

The next voice she heard was of Karpov's. "К счастью, они не будут требовать же принадлежности и памяти салфетки как первый солдат." _(Luckily they will not require the same conditioning and memory wipes as the first Soldier.)_ He went silent for a moment, shuffling through papers Bucky could only presume were medical reports. "Она должна позволить нам получить их в поле раньше, чем позже. Они уже имеют навыки, необходимые с учетом их стола элитной военной подготовки." _(It should allow us to get them into the field sooner rather than later. They already have the skills needed given their elite military training backgrounds.)_

Memory wipes. They didn't require memory wipes. Why was this? She was required to undergo wipes before each mission to keep her focused on the present task. Why didn't the other Winter Soldiers have to go through the same thing? How were they expected to stay focused on their missions?

The scientist spoke, next. "Пусть отдых на данный момент. Их тела только что прошли через напряженный изменения. Завтра они могут начать их упражнения." _(Let them rest for now. Their bodies have just gone through a stressful change. Tomorrow they can begin their exercises.)_

"Я хочу солдат там, тоже," _(I want the Soldier there, too,)_ Karpov stated. "Я хочу, чтобы увидеть, насколько эффективны против нее мои новые солдаты." ( _I want to see how effective my new soldiers are against her.)_

"Очень хорошо. Сколько времени я должен её готов?" _(Very well. What time should I have her ready?)_

"Рано." _(Early.)_

The conversing stopped in exchange for the rustling of clothing and hushed foot steps coming her way. Bucky acted as trained and stood up in the neutral position the moment she saw the dark haired, bearded scientist come into view. He folded his hands before him around a clipboard and studied the black body suited Soldier behind his thick framed glasses.

After looking at a couple of the male soldiers, the original appeared much smaller in frame. He wondered if she stood a chance against them. Maybe against the blond female soldier. They were about equal in build. If anything, the titanium prosthetic gave the first Soldier a bit of an advantage over the others. He sighed. In the little bit since working with on the Soldier's science team, he had bandaged and patched up a fair number of cuts, scrapes, gunshot wounds and burns. Would broken bones be added to that list?

He spoke. "Получите некоторые отдыха. Вам будет нужно оно на завтра. Полковник Карпов запросил помощь в подготовке новых солдат." _(Get some rest. You will need it for tomorrow. Colonel Karpov has requested your assistance in training the new soldiers.)_

Bucky made no sound as she returned to her cot, stretching out on her back across the lumpy pad as ordered. It was not her place to question orders but follow them. While she didn't always trust her handlers, she trusted her importance and the absolute necessity for her well-being. Though, given the latest five-member addition, how important would she continue to be?

The scientist walked away and the overhead light to the holding cell corridor turned off.

* * *

Come the morning, the corridor's light flicked back on. When it did, Bucky's eyes fluttered open. "Звонок, солдат!" _(Wake up, Soldier!)_ It was the bearded scientist escorted by an armed guard. Under one arm was her tactical jacket and black pants and carried in his other hand was her boots.

Bucky peeled herself off of her cot and stood in the neutral stance. Her cell door was unlocked and her clothes and boots placed on the foot of her bed. The scientist left with the cell door still open as Bucky changed out of her body suit. She was hasty in the task, as she needed to be to not waste time. It was stressed that time was important and anything wasted was time away from missions. Failed time was a failed mission. Failure wasn't acceptable.

She left her cell and followed the guard to the training cage. Already seated inside on a bench were the five other soldiers in black body suits. Four were men and the fifth a blond-haired woman. The first man was tall with neatly groomed dark hair atop his squared jawed face. The second was the woman, the third a tall man of African descent, the forth a brown-haired man with a thick beard and the last a shorter bald Asian man.

Bucky was directed to stand at the back of the cage beside Karpov and she did, hands at her side and head down. She could feel the other soldiers stare her up and down, eyes lingering on the metal arm. She could hear one of them speak, though not directly at her.

It sounded as though coming from the bearded man. "Так что это призрак... зимних солдата мы так много слышали о годами." _(So this is the ghost...the Winter Soldier we have heard so much about over the years.)_ Soft chuckles came from the group. "Здесь я ожидал что-то жестокая. Вместо этого я найти маленькая девочка. Как я должен принимать ее всерьез?" _(Here I was expecting something fierce. Instead I find a little girl. How am I supposed to take her seriously?)_ More restrained snickers.

Despite what he said, Bucky remained quiet and neutral. She had not been ordered otherwise by her commander. Karpov motioned for the first man to stand and come forward, which he did. The top of Bucky's head came just below his chin and he stared down at her questionably.

He brought his strong hand under her jaw and snapped her head upwards to look up at him. Still, she didn't speak or move in protest. The man laughed into her face, the heat of his breath prickling her cheeks. "Я постараюсь, чтобы не повредить что хорошенькое личико ваш, милая." _(I'll try not to hurt that pretty little face of yours, sweetheart.)_

Karpov snorted a laugh, whether in response to the comment or because he knew better than to know the Soldier would be hurt that easily. The man shoved her back a little, but Bucky was quick to regain her balance.

Karpov spoke. "Каждая учебная сессия будет последние пятнадцать минут. Не сдержать. Мне нужно знать в меру ваших возможностей." _(Each training session will last fifteen minutes. Do not hold back. I need to know the extent of your capabilities.)_ He backed up and almost against the glass wall behind him. "Начните." _(Begin.)_

The bigger man swung a fist at Bucky, but she avoided the blow by simultaneously stepping and leaning back. Another fist came at her, which she dodged again. She kicked outward towards his chest that felt as though built of pure muscle. He hardly budged in his stance and grabbed the woman's foot. He pulled her off her other and tossed her against the cell bar wall. The fighting match continued for the allotted fifteen minutes until time was called. Both Bucky and the first male soldier had their vitals taken before the next match commenced.

Bucky noticed the blond woman had a predictable fight pattern. She either tried to kick the legs out from her or tried to get atop her, straddling her to overcome her to the floor. Both moves were countered just as Bucky's was. While she was sparring with the male soldier, the blond had watched her, studying her moves. Come the third combatant, he had a strong back kick that left Bucky on the ground and at a loss of air. The forth was all muscle and fought ferociously with his entire body, whether it was enveloping her in a chest crushing embrace or damn near tying her in a knot using her arms and legs. The final soldier was lightning quick. He managed a series of brutal punches into her gut, but Bucky put a stop to that by knocking him to the floor with a metal fist against the side of his head.

The training sessions took almost an hour overall with small breaks in between for a health assessment of the Soldier and other five. Bucky was dismissed to return to her cell while the others sparred amongst themselves and practiced their shooting skills.

Faint bruises that had started to form during her sparring matches were starting to fade come early night. She supposed by early morning, they would have completely dissipated and the accompanying pains and stiffness gone as well. As was a perk to being enhanced with a super soldier serum similar to what the new five had been given. Though, whatever serum she had recovered from her target seemed a lot more effective. The new soldiers were faster and seemed stronger than her. This didn't set well with Bucky. She needed to be fast; needed to be strong. To not be so meant she was weak. Weakness was failure. Failure wasn't acceptable. Tomorrow she would do better.

Just as they had analyzed her fight patterns so did she to them. She detected some of their weaknesses and would prey on that to defeat them. She would not be weak. She would not fail.

* * *

The next morning came and Bucky was prepped for another morning sparring session with the new five. She proceeded down the hallway with an armed guard to the training cage. Just like the day before, the soldiers were seated on the bench and awaiting orders. Bucky stood beside Karpov as she too, awaited orders.

The first man was motioned forward, and the sparring matched was allowed to start. The man's attacks and deflections of her punches were much, much faster than yesterday. He was more aware of his potential, probably after practicing with the other soldiers after her dismissal the day before. This made him more of a challenge for Bucky, something she did her best to adapt to. But it didn't take him long to overtake her.

Bucky aimed her metal fist at the man's head, but he stopped her. It took a tight grip from both his muscular arms to stop the fist inches from his head. She tried to kick his knee out from under him with no success. The man bent her metal arm at a compromising angle, driving his elbow into the hard surface of her shoulder. She tried to resist him and looked up into his malicious eyes through sweaty strands of loose hair. He just didn't want to fight her, he wanted to defeat her; to hurt her.

He brought his arm down forcefully on her shoulder, compromising the complex series of connections between metal, cybernetics, muscle and bone. Bucky choked out a retrained cry and dropped to a knee beneath the man's physical force. Suddenly, she was jerked back up onto her feet and the air kicked from her lungs. She was sent flying backward where she collided with the training cage's back bullet proof glass wall. Bucky fell to the floor in a daze and panting to regain her breath. Her body felt sore and the connections to her left arm ached. It was a question if her opponent had possibly tried to disable it to some degree.

She propped herself up on her human arm and flexed her left hand.

Karpov was pleased and stood behind the downed woman, arms crossed over his chest. "Хорошая работа," _(Good work)_ he praised, though it sounded more mocking for the fact she was on her knees in defeat.

The male soldier saw a scientist approach him from his left for a health assessment and assumed the neutral stance. Fact was, he hadn't felt this good before in his life. It was exhilarating! When in control of this much power, why subject to being someone's obedient dog? The soldier grabbed the scientist by his arm and back of the neck and snapped his shoulder. He then threw the helpless scientist to the hard concrete floor face first, shattering his nose and cracking his skull. That was just the start.

Bucky assessed the situation and knew the threat level of the super soldiers just increased. She forced herself to her feet, shoulder be damned, and readied herself for what sure to be a very challenging fight.

An armed guard ran at the male soldier and slammed a riot stick onto his back hoping it would incapacitate him. All it did was piss him off. The other four soldiers sprang to their feet, ready to follow suit of the first man's actions.

Karpov jerked his sidearm out of its holster and aimed it at Bucky. He grabbed her right arm to both use her as a shield for his own protection and to enforce his authority over her. "Солдат, Вытащи меня отсюда." _(Soldier, get me out of here.)_

There was genuine fear in his voice as he watched the five super soldiers take on the guards and scientists so effortlessly. One of the soldiers made a vain attempt to attack Bucky, but she batted away his punch with her metal fist and knocked him to the floor. She stepped over him in her continuing to lead her commander safely through the chaos. Karpov pushed the Soldier aside to escape the madness before her as she slammed the gate closed behind her. A number of obscenities were yelled out at the armed guards standing post outside the training cage, ordering them to tranquilize the out of control soldiers only. Since none were armed with tranquilizer guns, the guards raced to the armory.

All Karpov could do was watch as his hopeful expansion to the Winter Soldier program failed harder than he could imagine. He expected at least one of the soldiers to be rebellious, but not all of them at the same time and so violently. He ran his hands over his face and tugged off his beret. This was a disaster. At least three scientists were dead as were a handful of his guards.

Minutes later, the other guards returned and with tranquilizer guns armed and ready. They took aim at the elite squad, firing dart after dart at them. It took more than one and even three in the bigger men's cases before the five were rendered nonconscious. Karpov wasted no time having them placed in their cryo-units for suspension before they could wake up. They were too dangerous and unpredictable.

The colonel studied the original Soldier while she stared at him in what looked like curiosity and question. Maybe she was wondering what he was going to do to her. To be honest with himself, he wasn't sure. She had done no wrong and in all the active years of her service, had given no reason to be doubted. Instead, Karpov ordered her to her cell while he pondered her fate. The program couldn't just be abandoned. There were too many high ranking individuals both Soviet and HYDRA overseeing and funding the program.

Karpov prepared a thorough report to give to his superiors detailing everything that happened the moment the Soldier, his Asset, returned from her mission with the serum to present.

* * *

 **And poor gender bent Bucky is thrown back in ice. We know the story from here. Yadda yadda. (seriously, why make a badass character into a chick? What was wrong with keeping the character as they were?) Again I'm not sure what to do with this story. I'm leaving that decision to you guys.**


End file.
